<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>falling like the stars by complicationstoo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198838">falling like the stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/complicationstoo/pseuds/complicationstoo'>complicationstoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist Steve Rogers, Athlete Steve Rogers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Howard Stark's Good Parenting, Knotting, M/M, Maria Stark's Good Parenting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Omega Tony Stark, Rimming, Secret Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:13:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>37,108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/complicationstoo/pseuds/complicationstoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony starts at MIT, he's excited to finally be in the same city as his older brother, Bucky, again. Then he meets Bucky's roommate and best friend Steve Rogers and falls faster than he would have ever thought possible.</p><p>Their relationship starts as a secret, but secrets can only be kept in the dark for so long.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1006</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Great stories, My Favorite Go-To Reads</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Work title comes from Falling Like The Stars by James Arthur :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony watches in amusement from his seat on his new dorm room bed as his brother reassures their parents for the hundredth time that Tony’s going to be fine in college. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, Dad, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’ll watch out for Tony, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, Mom, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tony doesn’t need to get a new roommate, they’ll be fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first part Tony knows is true, but the second part is debatable. He’s had exactly one interaction with Quentin Beck, and it wasn’t great as far as first impressions go. Quentin isn’t happy to be rooming with an omega, and he didn’t bother hiding his contempt for the idea. Plus, his side of the room is already on the sloppy side, and it’s only day one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that’s okay, Tony thinks, because Bucky is only ten minutes away now, in his off-campus apartment halfway between Boston College and MIT. He can always retreat to his brother’s place if his roommate is getting to be too much, which will probably be more often than either of them was originally expecting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t let him forget to eat,” his mom says to Bucky. She’s wringing her hands, and his dad slips one of his hands into hers to stop the anxious habit. On the outside, he’s less nervous than her, but Tony knows he worries just as much. “You know how he gets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Mom. He’ll be fine, I promise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I really think we’ve covered everything,” Tony chimes in right as his mom opens her mouth with another reminder. “I will not walk alone at night, I will call at least twice a week, I will go to all of my classes and do all of my homework, and most importantly, Bucky will not let me die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mom rolls her eyes, but smiles fondly. “I remember saying three times a week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stands from the bed, crossing the room to pull his mom into a hug. She holds him tight, and he lets her be the first to let go. He gets it - it’s hard to watch her younger son go off to college, and different than it was with Bucky. He was always on the independent side, the kind of alpha no one would bother messing with. His muscles are hardened from years of playing baseball, and he stands a good five inches above most people. Everything about him appears rather threatening on the outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony, however, looks every bit the omega that he is. He’s short, with a trim, narrow waist. His brown eyes are wide, giving him an innocent look that he knows other people like, even if it isn’t exactly accurate. He’s stronger than he looks, but his exterior is the exact opposite of his brother’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it makes sense that she would be worried, even if he doesn’t exactly like it. He knows how to handle himself, is smart enough not to put himself in bad situations. He’s past the point of needing Bucky to protect him, though he also knows Bucky still will regardless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying to have a social life, Mom,” Tony retorts. Before she can respond, he quickly tacks on, “Yes, I know, no alphas in the dorm besides Buck. I promise not to give you a grandchild until after college.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pinches his cheek for that remark, making him laugh. “Just promise me that you’ll take care of yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many times does he have to promise that?” Bucky questions, earning himself a pinched cheek, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine, Mom. Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulls him in for another hug, squeezing even harder than the first. It hits him then that this will be the last one for a while, and he holds on tight, too. He breathes in deep, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her floral perfume. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” she whispers in his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you, too, Mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets go, trying to discreetly wipe away the tears before they can make it down her cheeks. He doesn’t comment on them, instead turning to say goodbye to his dad. His hug is quicker, not nearly as tight, but his eyes are glassy, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take care of him,” his dad says, looking at Bucky, who confirms yet again that he will. Bucky would never let anything happen to him, and they all know that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re reluctant to leave, and his dad ends up having to coax his mom from the room. Bucky stays with him after they’re gone, waiting until they’re all the way into the elevator before saying, “Jesus, I was beginning to think they were going to ask for a blood oath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “Wouldn’t have surprised me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky plops down into his desk chair, spinning around in a lazy circle. “So, first day of college. How are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, I guess,” Tony shrugs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not nervous?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, it’s a new experience. You’ve never been away from home before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure, but I’ve got you to take care of me,” Tony grins, sitting back down on the edge of his bed and leaning back on his hands. “You promised.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky smiles, “I will, you know. You can come over anytime you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve won’t mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky shakes his head, “Nah, I already talked to him about it. He knows you’ll probably be over a lot. He’s cool with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods slowly. He doesn’t know Steve very well. They haven’t officially met, though he’s seen a few pictures and heard a few stories. This is Steve and Bucky’s first year living together, but they’ve been friends since freshman year. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he really knows is that they play on the baseball team together - Steve is first baseman to Bucky’s shortstop - and that he’s an alpha, too. He’s attractive, the kind of guy that probably has a hoard of omegas and some betas, too, hanging around him all the time, hoping for a shot. It’s always been the same with Bucky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s nice,” Bucky says. “You’ll like him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s a bit wary of alphas he doesn’t know, but he trusts Bucky’s judgment more than anyone else’s. “I’m sure I will. He can’t possibly be worse than my actual roommate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that guy seems like a piece of work. You’ll let me know if anything he does crosses the line, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you going to do? Kick his ass for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky smiles, “No, I’ll let Steve do it. That’s his kind of thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beating up shitty roommates?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, he’s got a thing about bullies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony raises an eyebrow, “Does he now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He does,” Bucky sighs, shaking his head like someone who is very much over it. “You have no idea how many fights I’ve had to pull him out of to keep him from getting suspended from the team. Two days ago we were hanging out at the bar with Clint, and some meathead wouldn’t leave this poor girl alone, and now Steve can’t practice for two weeks because he hurt his hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like a noble cause at least,” Tony laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was, but he could at least have let the bouncer handle it. Thor gets paid for that shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t he know that assault is still a crime even if it’s for a good reason?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve had that argument before, and it’s very much wasted on him. He says he never throws the first punch, so it’s fine,” Bucky replies, rolling his eyes. “I guess it’s worked out so far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ll be sure to let Steve know if my roommate ever does something really shitty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky grins, “Why? We both know you’ll throw a punch first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was one time, and he definitely had it coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you forgetting the second grade?” Bucky questions, and yeah, Tony definitely was. “Let’s face it, you gave me practice for handling Steve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man, you punch an alpha for being a dick two times, and no one ever lets it go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about freshman year? With that Stone guy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles, “Fine, three times, but I’m not admitting to anything else. The rest is speculation, and you have no proof.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On second thought, I don’t think I should let you and Steve even be in the same room together. No one will be safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, then reluctantly stands back up again. His half of the room is a mess of boxes and bags of his things, and he knows he needs to get it put away. He grabs one of the boxes and sets it on the bed. "So, you gonna stay and help me with this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky checks the watch on his wrist, “Hm, would you look at the time? I’m going to be late for something. It’s very important, can’t miss it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony throws a shirt at him, but Bucky catches it before it can hit his face. Damn baseball reflexes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stands with an overly dramatic sigh, “Fine, I’ll help, but only if you get me pizza after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair trade,” Tony grins. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve is dead on his feet as he walks from his car to his apartment. A long morning workout followed by an extended shift at the art store has taken a lot out of him, and he’s ready to crash for the rest of the evening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlocking the door, he walks into the apartment and pauses. There’s a faint scent that wasn’t there when he left this morning, something fruity and sweet underneath Bucky’s spicier scent and his own crisp one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t take long for him to identify the source of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hi,” Steve says to the person curled on the couch, whose head snaps up at his greeting. The omega’s eyes are dark and wide, above high cheekbones and full lips, and his brown hair is curling out of its styled shape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s first thought is that he might be one of the prettiest omegas he’s ever seen before. His second is that there’s something familiar about him, and then it clicks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re Bucky’s brother, right? Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, yeah. You’re Steve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be me. Where’s Buck at?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Natasha called him, so he went to get her. Left a couple of minutes ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods, and it’s awkward for a few seconds, with the TV providing background noise. Tony breaks it by saying, “There’s pizza in the kitchen, if you want. Bucky got one without pineapple for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a pineapple heathen, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grins, “Yes, I am, and very proud of it. People who don’t like it are unevolved.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you just call me unevolved?” Steve laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did.” Tony’s face holds a challenge in it, like he’s daring Steve to contradict him. Steve likes it a lot, and he’s still smiling when he goes into the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He brings the whole box back with him and sets it on the coffee table. Tony scoots over a bit, a clear invitation for Steve to join him, so he does. Flipping open the box, he takes out a slice and settles back into the cushions, right as someone on the screen is getting stabbed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you watching?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Criminal Minds</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but you can change it, if you want. Bucky had the Red Sox game on before he left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gestures toward the remote, sitting on the cushion between them, but Steve makes no move to grab it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are they playing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grimaces, “Fuck ‘em both.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that’s a nice sound, “Bucky said you had bad taste in baseball teams.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s the one with bad taste. How many championships do the Sox have compared to the Yankees?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’ve got no skin in this game. I couldn’t even tell you who won the series last year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nationals,” Steve says automatically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll forget that by tomorrow,” Tony smiles. “I only know anything about baseball because I’ve gone to so many of Buck’s games.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve finishes his slice and grabs another. “Bucky told me you weren’t that into sports, but you’re some kind of genius, right? MIT is hard to get into, so you must be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some kind, yeah,” Tony replies, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a crooked smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve lets the conversation drop away after that, eating his pizza and watching the show in silence. Well, almost silence. Tony makes comments as it goes along, joking about the dialogue and the low quality forensics. The first time he doesn’t seem to be aware he’s doing it, because he startles when Steve laughs. But after that it’s more purposeful, and Steve laughs quite a bit as the smell of pleased omega permeates the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve finds himself watching Tony out of the corner of his eye the entire time. He doesn’t mean to, not at first. It’s subconscious to glance over every time he laughs or when Steve catches a flash of movement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony catches him staring, and his brow furrows. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um, sorry,” Steve blushes. “You, uh, you and Bucky don’t look very much alike.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugs, turning back to the television. “We’re only half-siblings. I look more like my dad, and I guess he looks like his biological one. I don’t really know what he looks like, but I’m assuming because Bucky doesn’t really look like our mom, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you’re half-siblings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he never told you that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shakes his head. “Never really had a chance to come up, I guess. He never mentioned having another dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he doesn’t, really. He’s never met him,” Tony says. “He left when my mom got pregnant, and then she met my dad. My dad’s always been his dad, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did they meet? Your parents?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mom was a secretary for one of the marketing executives at SI. She’d been there a while, but they hadn’t met before, because he didn’t go to that department much. But one day he did, and he met her, and, well, the way they tell it is that it was love at first sight and it’s honestly the cheesiest story of all time. Like rom com levels of sappiness, especially when they get to the part when she had to tell him she was pregnant with some other guy’s kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs and sincerely says, “Sounds like a good man, taking in someone else’s kid like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, “He is. Never treated us any differently, either. I think he was just as proud of Bucky’s baseball scholarship as he was when I got into MIT.” Tony pauses, then says, “I’m not really sure how much of this I should be telling you, though. I mean, if he didn’t mention it before. Maybe shouldn’t put his whole life story out there for his friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just as much yours as his,” Steve shrugs. “But I know what you mean. I won’t mention it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles, “Well, like you said, it doesn’t really come up much. I don’t think that many people even know that we’re half-siblings. I think if anyone else notices that we don’t look alike, they just assume we take after different parents, which is technically true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The front door opens before Steve can respond, and Bucky and Natasha come in. Tony’s head pops up, and he grins, “Hey, Nat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha instantly brightens, something he’s never quite seen on her before, and she crosses the room in a flash. She lands on the space between Tony and the arm of the couch and practically pulls him onto her lap while they hug. “My favorite Stark is finally here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, thanks,” Bucky says sarcastically. “I really feel loved right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s cuter than you, and you know it,” she teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least I’m still Steve’s favorite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve makes a noncommittal sound. “Probably not for long. He is cuter than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky puts his hand on his chest in mock offense, “Must you hurt me like this in my own home, Stevie?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s ours, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re my favorite,” Tony says to Bucky, still wrapped around Natasha, with his head on her shoulder. “Does that make you feel better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Favorite by default, but I’ll take it,” Bucky smiles. He comes over to where Tony and Natasha are and says, “Scoot over, you’re hogging my girlfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighs, and Natasha plants a kiss on cheek before they separate. Bucky and Natasha are on one side, his back in the corner of the couch with her curled into his side. Tony ends up directly next to Steve, hardly any space at all between them. This close, Steve can make out his scent better, distinguishing sweet vanilla and almonds, along with a fruit he can’t quite identify. He inhales a little deeper, but still can’t name it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky looks at Steve and says, “Sorry I wasn’t here to introduce you, but I guess it was fine without me, seeing as he’s your new favorite and all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t try to argue that the Red Sox are good,” Steve says, knowing full well that he’s about to start a new argument with Bucky. “How could he not be my favorite?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky gapes at Tony, “You let him get away with saying that the Yankees are better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From what I hear, they objectively are,” Tony smirks, winking at Steve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out of my house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “It’s Steve’s place, too, and he wants me here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was right,” Bucky sighs, shaking his head sadly. “I shouldn’t have let you two be in the same room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?” Steve asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He thinks we’re too much alike and we’re going to cause a ton of trouble,” Tony supplies. “He’s probably right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not all that alike, really, but you’ve both got a complete lack of self-preservation skills.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Steve says. “Yeah, I can see that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you admit that you have no self-preservation?” Bucky raises an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grins, “I’ll admit that you think that I have no self-preservation, but I won’t admit to anything else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, God,” Bucky groans. “What have I done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony puts his arm around Steve’s shoulder, and the strength of his scent increases ten-fold. It’s intoxicating, more so than any other he’s smelled before, and so distracting that he can barely listen as Tony says, “Aw, come on. Do these look like the faces of people who would intentionally cause you trouble?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Bucky deadpans. “Those look exactly like the faces of two people who are going to put me in an early grave from stress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony rolls his eyes, “You’re so dramatic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says the drama queen himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who do you think I learned it from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom, probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “Yeah, but so did you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole time Tony hasn’t taken his arm off of Steve’s shoulder, and Steve is desperately trying not to think about. Of all the people to have an instant attraction to, his best friend’s little brother should definitely not be one of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve bends down, grabbing the remote that’s fallen on the floor and purposely dislodging Tony’s arm from his shoulders. Tony barely seems to notice it, his hands now placed in his own lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you mind if I put the game back on?” he asks, looking at Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to ‘fuck em both?’” Tony asks teasingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, “Red Sox will probably lose, and it’s fun to see Bucky get mad about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not gonna lose. They were winning by five runs when I left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll see about that.” Steve flips the channel back to the sports station and promptly bursts into laughter while Bucky swears. The Sox are now down by three at the top of eighth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck? How did this happen?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony leans in closer to him, so only Steve can hear him ask, “So are we rooting for the Mets, then? I can’t really tell who I’m supposed to hate more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looks over at him, and Tony’s eyes are bright with mirth and mischief. Oh, he is going to be bad for Steve’s health. Bucky won’t be the only one in an early grave if this keeps up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not on Bucky’s side?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles, “Nah, it is fun to watch him get mad. Think I’ll buy myself a Yankees hat tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Bucky interrupts, glaring daggers at Tony. “I heard that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got one you can borrow,” Steve grins. Bucky turns the glare on him, so he continues, “I’ve got a jersey, too. You’d look good in pinstripes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony giggles, “I think so, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear to God, Tony, I’m disowning you as my brother if I see you in a Yankees jersey,” Bucky threatens. “I mean it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many do you have, Steve?” Natasha asks. “I want to see if he’ll implode if we all do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a house full of traitors.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Steve's thoughts on baseball teams in no ways reflects the author's own lol. It physically pained me to compliment the Yankees.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for all the really nice comments on the first two chapters :) They're really encouraging!</p><p>If it's not clear, text messages are in this format:<br/>[bolded name of sender]: italicized content of the text</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>red alert. bucky’s friend is really hot</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Pepper</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I thought we already knew that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah but like</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>really really hot</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony’s phone rings a second later, and the first thing Pepper says when he picks up is, “Please tell me you aren’t developing feelings for your brother’s best friend. Because I don’t think you need me to tell you that it’s a bad idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feelings? Probably not. Attraction? Most definitely,” Tony says, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread on his pajama bottoms. His roommate is still out for the night, probably at one of the parties every fraternity around seems to be holding this week, so he doesn’t have to worry about being overheard right now. “I only just met him, so I don’t really know him well enough for feelings. He seems nice, though. And he smells like apples.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course he does,” Pepper sighs. She knows about his weakness for certain scents, apples being one of them. And she’s right, because of course it wasn’t enough for him to be one of the most attractive alphas Tony has ever laid eyes on, he just had to smell like apples and honey to top it off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony was weak in the knees from the second he walked into Bucky’s apartment, and it only got worse when Steve came home. Sitting right next to him was sweet torture. Multiple times he found excuses to get himself even closer, breathing a little deeper than normal each time to get more of his enticing scent. He wants to believe that Steve was doing the same, but he knows he’s probably fooling himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I do need to tell you this is a bad idea, then?” Pepper asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I already know that. But I guess the reminder couldn’t hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t date your brother’s friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I just made out with my brother’s friend? Like just a little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper laughs, “This isn’t a negotiation, Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he’s really cute,” Tony says. “And he’s funny. Did I tell you that? Plus he thought I was funny, and you know that doesn’t happen that much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A lot of people think you’re funny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, a lot of people laugh at my jokes, but most of the time it’s fake. His wasn’t fake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you want to date Bucky’s friend, potentially ruining that friendship if something goes wrong, because he thinks you're funny and he smells like apples?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighs, “I’m not saying I’m going to date him, but I am saying that if I spend any more time with him I’m going to go through a lot of underwear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper makes a gagging sound, making him laugh. “You absolutely did not need to tell me that. I didn’t need that visual in my head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just trying to paint an accurate picture for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Resist the hot guy, Tony. You can do it. I have faith in you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you rejected the one time make out idea a little too quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it really be just one time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugs, “Yeah, sure. To just get it out of my system. One and done. Like skydiving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skydiving?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People only do it once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know a lot of people do it more than once, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The point is that I would only do it once, and then I would be fine,” Tony says. “He’s probably a really bad kisser.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you assume that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because no one is that perfect on the surface without having some sort of fatal flaw. I bet his is that he sucks in bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did we go from making out to sleeping with him?”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I have no self-control.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can hear Pepper’s smile in her voice. “That’s accurate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I should just avoid him completely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d say go with that idea,” Pepper says. “It has my vote.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s some rustling on her end of the line, prompting Tony to ask, “Where are you right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dorm room. I’m trying to get these stupid lights to hang right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re decorating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” she replies, like it’s obvious. “Let me guess, your walls are blank and you haven’t even put your clothes away yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes to the first part, but I actually put my clothes away right after my parents left. Bucky was still here, so I made him help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much did your mom cry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grins, “Not that many tears, actually. I think she saved them for the drive to the airport. Yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She used half of my box of tissues.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “You barely left home. You’re in the same state and everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I kept telling her that Stanford’s only five hours away, but she just kept crying and saying that her baby’s all grown up now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mine basically made me promise not to do anything actually fun and made Bucky promise to be my bodyguard. I have to call three times a week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to call daily. Pretty sure she’ll assume I’m dead and call the police if I miss one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’ll start the search party herself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper’s laugh is followed by a crashing sound. “Shit, I’ll call you back later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s almost midnight here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. Tomorrow, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Avoiding Steve is more difficult than he would have thought. For it to actually work, he would have to start avoiding Bucky, too, because they seem to always be together. They meet up for breakfast and dinner sometimes, with Natasha and Steve tagging along most of the time. Bucky always asks first, but Tony would never say no to Nat, and it would be rude to say yes to one and not the other. So often he ends up sitting opposite Natasha and Bucky, with Steve at his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t get easier, either. He ends up liking Steve even more with every single day. It’s why when Steve casually mentions that his physics class isn’t going very well, Tony doesn’t hesitate to offer to help him with his homework. Which leads him here, sitting next to Steve in a small study room on the fifth floor of O’Neill Library.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So an elastic collision will conserve internal kinetic energy, while inelastic collisions have a different internal kinetic energy afterwards,” Tony explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, okay.” Steve looks up from his set of problems, clearly not following where Tony is trying to lead him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the first law of thermodynamics states that energy cannot be created or destroyed, so with inelastic collisions, the kinetic energy has to be converted into some other form of energy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Steve says again, slower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So if a collision is producing sound and heat it would be…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve stares at him blankly, so Tony fills in the rest for him himself, “Inelastic. Kinetic energy gets converted to thermal energy and to sound waves, which are a form of mechanical energy. And all of that is to say that this -” Tony points to a sheet of paper next to the textbook “- is the formula you should use for this problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve runs a hand over his face, leaning back in his chair. “Why does every single physics problem have to have so much work before the actual question? Why can’t they just tell me that it’s inelastic in the first place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because then it would just be math, and this way you prove that you understand the principles behind the math.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a rhetorical question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve cracks a smile, his first in the near hour they’ve been at this. “I just don’t know why this is so hard to understand. I swear I’ve read this chapter five times already. I promise I’m not actually dumb.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it takes a certain kind of brain for physics,” Tony shrugs. “It’s part math, part science, and pretty much none of it occurs in a way that’s visible to the human eye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re saying I’m fucked?” Steve laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles, “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I think we just need to find a way to make it work for the type of brain you have. I just can’t decide if it would be helpful or cheesy to use a baseball example right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It literally can’t confuse me more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so, you know how there’s a sweet spot on a baseball bat?” Steve nods, so Tony continues, “The really simplified version of why it exists is that it’s the spot on the bat that converts the least amount of kinetic energy into sound, so more momentum is conserved, and the ball leaves the bat with a faster exit speed than if it was hit on any other spot on the bat. So when you read that a collision produced sound, you can think of how hitting a baseball works, and hopefully remember that sound is energy conversion. Less conversion means more momentum is conserved. Does that help at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I think so. I mean, the example makes sense, but I don’t know if I’ll actually be able to apply to any of the other problems.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, trying to think of more ways to approach it so it makes sense. But his brain is starting to feel a little fried, and physics is his minor. He can only imagine how tired Steve must be feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna take a break?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, yes,” Steve sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There a good coffee shop around here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a Starbucks counter in Maloney. One building over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the best, but I’ll take it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony packs up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, and waits while Steve finishes zipping up his own. They take the stairs back down to the ground floor, and Tony falls in step beside Steve while he guides them to the right building. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you taking physics, by the way? Seems like there were easier ways to fulfill a science requirement.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There were,” Steve agrees. “But I needed a morning class to fit my schedule, and all the professor reviews said he was great, so I didn’t think it would be so bad. He is good, but it doesn’t matter much when I don’t understand a word he’s saying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s an intro class, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then he’s not that good if he’s not explaining things in a way that people from any major could understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “I suppose that’s true. Most of the reviews did focus on his personality.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can help you as much as you need, though,” Tony offers, though he knows he shouldn’t. They agreed to sessions once per week, and the last thing he needs is more contact with Steve. His attraction is quickly blossoming into a full blown crush, and that’s a dangerous thing. He keeps reminding himself that Steve is off-limits, but it’s not as effective as it once was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to take too much of your time. I know you’ve got your own classes to deal with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugs, “I’m managing just fine so far. I really don’t mind if you want to do twice a week, or even just longer Monday sessions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure?” Steve’s expression is hopeful, and Tony finds it much too cute for his own good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’ve really got the time, then yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got all the time for you.” Tony wants to smack himself the second the words are out, because it’s probably a little too much. But Steve smiles and puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder, and Tony can feel the warmth of it through his t-shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you free on Thursday nights?” he asks. Tony nods a bit too enthusiastically, and Steve’s smile grows. “It’s a date, then.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve told himself the night after he met Tony that he was going to distance himself, but it’s proving impossible so far. His self-control is non-existent when it comes to Tony. He means to say no every time Bucky asks him if he wants to come to breakfast or dinner with them, means to say he has plans already when Bucky mentions seeing a movie as a group. But instead he ends up in the darkened theater with Tony to his right, lips wrapped around a straw like he’s completely unaware that Steve is suffering next to him at the sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It really doesn’t matter how many times he tells himself to let it go or to find someone who’s actually attainable. His heart keeps lurching through his chest every time Tony flashes him a smile. He still forgets how to breathe every time he manages to make Tony laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when Tony tells him that he has all the time for him? He nearly trips over his own feet, and he can only hope that he manages to pull it off when he tries to play it cool. Then he can’t help but test that theory a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Tony,” Steve says, grinning when Tony picks up the phone after only two rings. “I’ve got a physics test coming up next week. Do you think you could spare an hour later today to help me get ready for it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure. I’ve got a class until three, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine. I could, um, I could pick you up, maybe? So you don’t have to take the bus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Steve confirms. “Bucky’s got class until late tonight, so we could study here, if that’s alright with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pauses for a moment, then says, “Okay, sure.” He gives Steve instructions on where to meet him, then has to hurry off to class. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles down at the blank, black screen of his phone after he hangs up. There really is a test, and he really does need help, but it could also wait until Monday. Seeing Tony can’t, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves the apartment a little before three, making his way over to Cambridge to pick Tony up outside the building of his last class. His timing is near perfect, and he pulls up to the curb a moment before Tony walks outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles vibrantly when he spots Steve, waving as he jogs over to the car. He throws himself into the passenger seat and buckles his seatbelt before turning to flash another brilliant smile Steve’s way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Steve grins in return. “How was your class?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony makes a face. “Annoying. We’re in groups for a project, and it’s shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve stays quiet, hoping that Tony will naturally fall into one of his rambling rants without prompting, and he doesn’t disappoint. He learned pretty early on that Tony can be passionate about just about anything. His opinions are strong on the most random of things, and he’ll defend them with a surprising amount of vigor. It’s one of the things that attracted Steve to him the most, after the initial infatuation that stemmed from his sweet smell and pretty face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it was just his looks, Steve thinks, it wouldn’t have been so hard to ignore that infatuation. But it stopped being about that weeks ago. Now, he just enjoys Tony’s company. He likes the way Tony rolls his eyes at bad TV show plots and laughs at horror movies. He likes the string of unconnected texts he wakes up to sometimes, because Tony was sleep-deprived and had a million thoughts going at once. He really likes how patient he is when he’s tutoring Steve, though Bucky warned him that Tony’s tolerance for stupidity is fairly low. Steve sees now that it’s his tolerance for unearned arrogance that’s actually low, given the amount of people around him who challenge his intelligence regularly without a foot to stand on. He’s actually patient with people who don’t pretend to know more than him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The list of things Steve likes about him is growing by the day, correlating with his shrinking ability to deny his interest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes in moments like this, with Tony talking animatedly next to him, he can’t help but wonder if the attraction is mutual. If they both feel the same way, but neither wants to take the risk. He thinks about what would happen if they gave into it, and the vision always starts off beautifully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then his imagined version of Bucky finds out, and things turn to shit quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he clamps down on the part of him that wants nothing more than to find out what Tony’s mouth tastes like and pretends that he’s perfectly okay with being just a friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he is okay with that, if that’s all that Tony wants from him. Well, he’ll find a way to be, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony wraps up his story about his group project that’s going all sorts of wrong with a sigh, slumping back into his seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just really thought it would be different here. I mean, how did these people even get into this school if they’ve never put any effort into a project before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles, “Every group project is the exact same no matter where you go. There’s always one or two people who do everything, while the rest ride their coattails.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s annoying,” Tony says bluntly, making Steve laugh. “Bruce and I are doing the work of five people right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bruce?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My new best friend. He’s the only one who actually understands the project we’re doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does he know he’s your new best friend?” Steve questions, giving Tony a knowing look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet, he doesn’t, but he will soon. I will wear him down and make him love me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shakes his head with a smile, “Won’t take long. I give him two days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hums happily, fiddling with the radio dial to change it to the rock station he prefers. His content scent fills the small space of the car rather easily, and it’s hard to ignore it. He still hasn’t quite figured out what the dominating fruity note is, and his mom raised him better than to outright ask. It’s impolite by anyone’s standards and downright offensive to some. She’d slap him upside the head all the way from Brooklyn if he did that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls into the parking lot of the apartment building and crosses quickly to the other side of the car to open Tony’s door for him. He’s rewarded with a small smile and the faint pinking of Tony’s cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside, Steve’s physics notes and book are already on the kitchen table, and Tony takes the seat next to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I started some coffee before I left,” Steve says, retrieving a mug from the cabinet. “Want some?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s eyes light up. “Yes, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes it the way Tony likes it, with just a splash of vanilla cream. Steve holds the mug out to him, and Tony’s hand brushes his as he takes it. The smallest of contact really shouldn’t have any sort of effect on him, but it does every time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lifting the mug up to his face, Tony inhales deeply before taking his first sip. “I swear coffee tastes better when you make it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve bites his lip to keep from smiling too wide. He takes his seat next to Tony, rearranging his notes so Tony can see them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They get down to business right away, and for a long while the only conversation is about the types of forces. It’s over an hour later when they emerge from the study session, when Tony’s stomach grumbles in the middle of a sentence about the difference between weight and mass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony blushes, but Steve laughs and says, “Sorry, I should have planned ahead about dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine. I just, uh, skipped lunch today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve frowns, and Tony quickly amends, “I mean, I snuck a granola bar in class, but I didn’t have time for anything else. Don’t give me that look. It’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What look? I don’t have a look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you do,” Tony grins. “It’s your protective alpha look, but I don’t need it because I can take care of myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you won’t let me make you dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony purses his lips, pretending to think about it, “Depends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you making me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pushes his chair back from the table and crosses the kitchen to open the fridge. He hasn’t done his grocery shopping for the week yet, and Bucky doesn’t cook much for himself, resulting in nearly barren shelves. There’s a sticky half-empty jar of strawberry jam, coffee creamer, ketchup and mustard bottles, but little else. The cabinets are much the same when he goes through those. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns back to Tony rather sheepishly. “Um, Chinese takeout?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “Yeah, that sounds good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve finds the takeout menu stuck to the side of the fridge with a baseball-shaped magnet. He gives it to Tony to look through, then calls the number to place a delivery order. After, they move into the living room, and Steve passes the remote off to Tony to choose something. He puts on another one of those crime shows, though neither of them pay it much attention once they get to talking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It starts with Tony’s offhanded comment that the high school being depicted in the show is wildly inaccurate and “it’s like TV show writers never even went to high school,” and ends up with swapping stories of their own experiences, not that either was very long ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of Tony’s stories involve Bucky more so than himself. Steve gets embarrassing stories about Bucky’s first relationships, his disastrous prom, and the innocuous prank he pulled with Tony’s help on the math teacher that everyone hated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” Steve asks after Tony tells him about the girl that broke up with Bucky back in his junior year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s brow furrows. “What about me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your relationships. What were they like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, pretty much non-existent. I mean, there was the occasional thing, but it never lasted long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Steve frowns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugs, “I kind of keep to myself. I mean, Bucky was really popular back in high school, so people used to talk to me to get to him. But after he graduated, it really didn’t happen anymore. People weren’t all that interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That makes no sense, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve thinks, except he must slip and say it out loud, because Tony laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? That Bucky was popular and I wasn’t? Makes perfect sense to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no,” Steve stammers. “That people weren’t interested. You’re just, um, I think you’re plenty interesting all on your own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gives a disbelieving hum. “You’d be friends with me if it weren’t for Bucky?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” At Tony’s raised eyebrow, he continues, “If I had just happened to meet you somewhere else, I’d still want to know you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s look is assessing, and Steve stays steady under it. His statement was true. He knows it without a doubt, and he needs Tony to know it, too. He hates that there might even be a shred of doubt that he’s with Tony right now for anything other than the fact that he genuinely likes him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually the look gives way to acceptance, and Tony smiles softly before settling back into the cushions. Steve likes the way the couch smells faintly like him every time he leaves now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about you?” Tony asks. His gaze is turned toward the television, but Steve knows he has all of Tony’s attention on him. “I told you mine, so you have to tell me yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have much to tell, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grins crookedly, “Now that doesn’t make sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was one girl back in high school for a while, but she was an exchange student from England. I haven’t seen her since she went back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this like a one that got away thing?” There’s something in Tony’s voice that Steve thinks might be jealousy, but he knows he’s reading too much into it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “Oh, no. I liked her, but not that much. It’s more of a we’re-Facebook-friends-now kind of thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But no one since? It’s been a couple years, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Steve nods. “But with baseball and classes and my job I’m busy a lot of the time. It's an effort, you know, to make time for someone else in all of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You always seem to have time for me,” Tony says, absentmindedly like he’s saying it to himself more than to Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In reply, he steals Tony’s line from the other day and hopes they meant it the same. “I’ve got all the time for you.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>hey guys can i spend the night at your place?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course. Everything okay?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s fine. roommate’s just being extra annoying</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Bucky</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Does Steve need to kill him?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve is willing to.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>murder might be a little too far</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>although he is currently chewing with his mouth wide open</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Bucky</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll be at Nat’s tonight. U can have my room. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>be there at 6?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sounds good. I’ll make sure there’s food this time. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tony grins down at the last text from Steve. He wasn’t bargaining for a full night with him alone, nor was he expecting the thrill that runs through him at the thought of Steve taking care of him like that, but the anticipation makes it hard for him to return his attention to the textbook on his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should have said an earlier time, he thinks as he looks at the clock on his nightstand. Earlier felt like imposing, though, and a part of him already wonders just how much of Steve’s kindness towards him is just politeness and how much is actual caring. He doesn’t want to test those limits, too afraid of what the answer is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forcing his mind to focus, he stares intently at the pages of the book until he gets reabsorbed in it. It’s almost enough to drown out Quentin’s terrible music and obnoxious chewing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, though, even advanced calculus isn’t enough to settle his anxious mind, and he closes the textbook. If he takes his time getting ready, he should only be a little early, so that’s exactly what he does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a shower, blow dries his hair afterwards instead of letting the air naturally take care of it for him. What compels him to pull on the pair of lacy black underwear, he’ll never know. Just in case, maybe. In case something goes spectacularly right, and even if it doesn’t and no one sees them, there’s something about knowing they’re there that makes him stand a little straighter, feel a little more confident.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His backpack gets overstuffed with clothes for the night and morning, along with a few things so he can study once Steve goes to bed. Tony doesn’t like to sleep while there’s still four digits on the clock, but Steve seems like the type who believes in early to bed and early to rise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quentin seems happy when Tony tells him that he’ll be out for the night, and he doesn’t bother hiding it either. Nor does he ask where Tony is going, not that it’s any of his business, anyway. His expression basically tells him not to let the door hit him on the way out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Tony is walking from the bus stop to the apartment building, it’s five to six, and he’s right on time when he knocks on the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve opens it quickly, his smile bright. “Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles back at him, gripping the strap of his backpack a little tighter. Distance sometimes makes him forget just how enticing Steve’s scent is, right until he’s faced with it again and almost gets knocked off his feet from how much he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve steps to the side to let him through and locks the door behind them as Tony says, “Thanks for letting me stay here. I’ll try not to make it a regular thing, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Putting his hand on Tony’s shoulder, Steve replies in a gentle tone, “I don’t mind if you do, and you know that Bucky doesn’t either. You’re always welcome to stay here, Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something in the way that Steve says his name that makes him melt even more. He never thought his name could sound like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, not trusting his voice right now and somewhat afraid that if he were to open his mouth, all that would come out is some kind of confession. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks, he must be coming near the end of his heat cycle if just Steve saying his name makes him want to drop to his knees. His suppressants stop the actual heat from coming, but they can’t completely control the rush of hormones that throw him off balance every three months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, uh, I asked Bucky what you like, and he said that anything Italian was good,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks nervous, like he’s worried that whatever he made isn’t going to be good enough. Which is stupid, Tony decides, because the fact that he put any effort at all into cooking makes Tony like him a million times more somehow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gives him a reassuring smile. “It is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Steve says, a little too loud. His cheeks flush a bit, and he bites his lip. “Right, good. It’s, um, it’s done already, if you’re hungry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods again, and just to see Steve’s reaction, tells him, “I skipped lunch again, so yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can see Steve actively fighting with himself not to say something about it. His face does that same little pouty thing it did last time, and Tony has to hide his grin until Steve’s back is to him as he goes into the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gestures for him to sit at the table, so Tony does, dropping his backpack to the floor next to him. There’s already two glasses with what looks like strawberry lemonade sitting there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve notices him looking at it when he sets a plate of fettuccine in front of him. “Bucky said you like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony doesn’t hide his grin this time. He likes the idea of Steve asking about him, of him wanting it to be right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s perfect, Steve,” Tony says sincerely. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cheeks have gone darker, matching the shade of the lemonade almost perfectly. “You’re welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns back to get his own plate, then joins Tony at the table. Steve still looks nervous, so Tony jumpstarts the conversation himself. “How did your physics test go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was fine, I think. Your examples helped a lot, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, good. Sometimes I can’t tell if they make any sense or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve reassures him that they did, then switches the topic to ask, “So what exactly did the roommate do to chase you out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing specific, really. He just makes a lot of noise and does a lot of obnoxious things, and then he complains when I so much as breathe. I didn’t have my phone on silent this morning, and he said that it was too distracting and he ‘couldn’t study in this kind of environment.’ It was on vibrate and buzzed literally once.” Tony rolls his eyes, twirling a long noodle around his fork. “I’d tell him to fuck off, but I think that would only make it worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to assume you wouldn’t like it if I offered to tell him to fuck off for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “Yeah, definitely wouldn’t. Now, if someone just happened to punch him in the face after the year is over, all I’m saying is that it wouldn’t be an unfortunate circumstance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep that in mind,” Steve smiles. “But in the meantime, you really are welcome to stay here anytime. I know I already said that, but I mean it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want your roommate’s little brother taking over your couch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want my friend to be somewhere he feels comfortable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony distracts himself from the way that statement feels with too big a mouthful of pasta. He redirects the conversation to something safer, asking Steve about the chances of the Yankees advancing to the next round of the postseason. It works like a charm, and Steve goes on about the rosters of both teams while they eat. Tony doesn’t mind listening to it all. He would listen to just about anything Steve had to say, especially if it gets him as excited as this.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When their plates are cleared, Steve takes them both over to the sink, and Tony follows with their glasses. There’s a few pots in the sink already, and Tony offers, “I can do these, since you cooked and all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looks appalled by the idea. “What? No, I’ve got it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s really the least I can do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve still looks hesitant, and Tony wants to laugh, but instead he says, “It’s literally just putting things in the dishwasher. It’ll take five minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which is why it’s fine if I do them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony rolls his eyes fondly and shoves on Steve’s shoulder, turning him around to guide him out of the kitchen and into the living room. “While I appreciate you taking care of me, I really can handle dishes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve turns back to him, stopping them in the threshold. “I just like taking care of you. Is that so bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice is soft and unsure, and Tony’s heart rate picks up at the almost confession. Tony’s hand is still on Steve’s shoulder like it’s stuck there, and maybe it is. He doesn’t want to lose the contact, no matter how small. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Tony says, voice a whisper. “No, it’s not. I - I like it. No one’s ever really done that for me before. I mean, not anyone who wasn’t Bucky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a long moment in which neither of them move, frozen in place as they stare at each other. Tony is afraid to move, afraid to break them out of whatever this is. It feels like the point of no return, and a neon sign flashes in his mind, telling him that there’s no turning back if he continues forward.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t know what’s on the other side of the line, but he wants to cross it anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve must want the same. He glances down at Tony’s lips, lingering there. His hand finds Tony’s waist, the touch tentative and testing. When Tony doesn’t make any move to pull away, his other hand reaches up to cup his jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he’s still hesitant to make the final move. They stay in the in between of friends or something more until Tony whispers, “Please.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>we're getting hella explicit with this one y'all</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Please,” Tony whispers, and all of Steve’s resolve disintegrates. Tony’s lips are warm against his own, tasting faintly of sugary lemonade and strawberries. Steve licks away the flavor of it, until he’s left with just him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony parts his lips for him, and Steve takes the invitation. Both of their scents have spiked with arousal, filling the room with honey and vanilla that blend together in perfect sweetness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moves his hand to the small of Tony’s back, pulling him in closer as he breaks the kiss to trail his lips down Tony’s neck. Dragging his nose along Tony’s soft skin, he breathes in deep to smell more of him now that he’s allowed the luxury. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s breathing grows even more erratic as he presses his lips to the bonding gland at the side of his neck. He traces the swollen bump with his tongue, coaxing more scent to permeate the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Apricots</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he realizes now. That’s what he could never figure out before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve,” Tony whimpers, his hand fisting into Steve’s shirt. The sound is so beautiful that Steve needs to hear it again. He sucks gently on the gland, not nearly hard enough to break skin, and Tony gasps his name again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s arm wraps around his neck, holding on tight, and Steve walks him backwards until he’s pressed against the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kisses back up Tony’s neck, leaving a wet trail from his open mouth, until he reaches Tony’s lips again. Tony moans into their second kiss, and blunt nails dig into Steve’s shoulder blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gets the errant thought that he should slow down, take the time to have a discussion first, but he can’t bear to take his hands off of him. Tony, it seems, is in a similar shape. His hand slips under Steve’s shirt to grip his hip, fingers tracing the dip between muscle and bone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve takes it as permission to let his own hands drift. He explores the contours of Tony’s body over his clothes wherever his hands can reach. His body is lithe, muscles surprisingly well-defined from what he can feel of them.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony is the first to pull away from the kiss this time, but he doesn’t go far. Both hands lift the hem of Steve’s shirt, pushing it up until Steve takes the hint and removes it. He tosses it somewhere behind him and rests his hands on either side of Tony’s head on the wall, boxing him in while Tony stares at his bare torso. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sees the bobbing of Tony’s adam's apple as he swallows, and his eyes have grown even darker, whisky brown shaded with black. His hands are a little unsteady when they land on Steve’s chest. He trails them slowly down, and Steve’s breath hitches at the light ghosting of his fingers over his nipples. Tony must catch the sound, because he repeats the action while Steve bites hard on his own lip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re beautiful,” Tony whispers, reverent. He looks up through long, dark lashes, and Steve can’t believe he’s the one being complimented here, when it’s Tony that should be hearing those words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve leans in, captures Tony’s lips in another kiss, slow and sweet. He rests his forehead against Tony’s, catching his breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels overwhelmed in the best possible way, surrounded by a perfumed cloud of Tony’s scent, with Tony’s hands on his body. It’s like every dream he’s had since the day they met, every vision over the last two months come to life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s fingertip traces the curve of Steve’s bottom lip, and Steve grabs his wrist as he kisses it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony,” he murmurs. “What are we doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The corner of Tony’s mouth raises in a small smile. “Well, I was kind of hoping that you were going to kiss me some more, take me to your bedroom, and then some more clothes would get taken off and you’d get to see the really nice underwear I have on for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve makes a sound somewhere halfway between a groan and a squeak, and Tony’s smile grows. “For me, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve runs his thumb across Tony’s cheekbone, mapping the high peak of it. “Knew this would happen, did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shakes his head, flushing pink, “No, I just - I’ve wanted this for a really long time. I might’ve been hoping, but I didn’t think - I never thought this would actually happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Steve had any resolve left, that would have broken the rest of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve takes a step back and holds out his hands. Tony looks down at them, then takes them in his own for Steve to walk them into the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hasn’t had Tony in here before, and the idea of getting his scent on his sheets has him growing impossibly harder in his jeans. Tomorrow, when all of this starts to feel like some kind of fever dream, he’ll be able to bury his face in his pillow, breathe in the scent of him, and know it was all real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony looks around, and Steve wonders what his impression is. His art supplies are set up in the corner by the window, where the light is best for him to paint. There’s a half-finished canvas on the easel with vague shapes and colors coming into form. He stopped partway through when he noticed the eyes were beginning to look like Tony’s, and he doesn’t know if he wants Tony to realize that it’s him or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walls are relatively bare, save for a few prints of his favorite works. Monet hangs above the bed, Van Gogh next to the door of his closet, Dali above the dresser. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you were so talented,” Tony says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve follows his line of sight to the finished painting drying propped up against the wall. It’s a piece for one of his classes, and he wasn’t all that fond of it when he finished. He says as much, and Tony tells him, “You should be proud of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pulls Tony back into his arms, tugging on his t-shirt. “And you should take this off.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony giggles and pulls the shirt off, leaving them both bare chested. Steve runs his hands over the newly exposed skin, and Tony shivers under the touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every instinct is screaming at him to take and to claim, to get the rest of the clothes out the way, lay Tony down on his bed, and mark him all over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t want to rush this part. He wants to learn the details of Tony’s body, figure out what buttons to push to get him to gasp out Steve’s name again. He wants to taste his skin and  memorize the feel of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kisses Tony’s neck again, and Tony tilts his head to the side to give him more access. It’s a display of trust he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve, but he swears to himself that he’ll never abuse it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony puts his hands on his chest, gently pushing him until the backs of Steve’s knees hit the bed, and he sits down at the edge of it. Climbing on top of him, Tony straddles his thighs with a confidence Steve wasn’t quite expecting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s hand tangles in his hair, pulling to tilt his head back for a bruising kiss. Steve’s hands hold onto his waist at first, then travel lower to palm his rounded backside. He’s been thinking for so long about what it would be like to get his hands on Tony’s ass, and it doesn’t disappoint. He digs his fingers in a little harder, and Tony’s hips jerk forward with a groan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s hands continue their quest to touch every inch of Tony’s body, while Tony kisses his way down the column of Steve’s throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scents Steve thoroughly, covering him in sweet vanilla and apricots. Anyone who smelled him right now would know exactly who he was just with, and the thought is thrill-inducing. He wants to be Tony’s, wants to feel like he belongs to him and him alone.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s drowning in the scent by the time Tony pulls back and gets off the bed, and he’s dazed enough by it that at first he whines when Tony is no longer on top of him. Until he realizes that Tony is unbuttoning his jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The underwear is black and lacy, with a small pink bow on the top. There’s just enough fabric to cover him, but Steve can see the outline of his erection through it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony steps between Steve’s thighs, and Steve’s hands automatically shoot up to touch him. Laughing at his eagerness, Tony teasingly asks, “Do you like them, baby?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve makes the same strangled sound from before. Oh, he could get used to hearing Tony calling him baby. Especially if he does it while standing in just his underwear, smelling of desire and need. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looks up at him, almost forgetting how to breathe with how gorgeous he looks right now. His hair is wild from Steve’s hands, lips swollen and red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re perfect, sweetheart,” he whispers back. He traces the edges of the lace against Tony’s upper thigh. “So pretty for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony repeats the same words from earlier, “Only for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wants it to be true. He wants to be the only one that gets to see this, wants to see it again and again and never get tired of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stands and wordlessly guides Tony to lay back on the bed, then positions himself between Tony’s spread legs. He looks even prettier against the dark blue of Steve’s sheets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve starts at the hollow of Tony’s throat, kissing him across his collarbones and down his chest. He takes his time to tease him after quickly discovering that Tony’s nipples are quite sensitive. With his mouth on one and his fingers on the other, he alternates light touches and sweeps of his tongue with slightly rougher flicks and scrapes of teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony becomes a quivering mess beneath him, and Steve can smell how wet he’s getting. The air is growing thicker with it, and Steve is willing to bet that if he touched him right now, his underwear would be soaked through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve, please,” Tony whimpers, breaking off into a gasp when Steve gives a hard suck to the skin over his ribcage, sure to leave a bruise. Tony’s patience seems to be running thin, but that’s exactly what Steve wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kisses down Tony’s stomach, leaves another mark on his hip, and by the time he reaches the lace edge of the underwear, his own patience is nearly gone as well. The scent is strongest here, making Steve’s mouth water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits back on his heels and drags the underwear down, watching as Tony is slowly revealed to him. His cock is hard and leaking, precome dripping onto his stomach. He’s wet with slick, and his inner thighs are shiny from it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wants nothing more than to taste him right now, but he holds off long enough to get his own pants and boxers off. It’s a relief to be free of the restricting fabric, and he strokes himself a couple of times in anticipation. Tony watches the movement of his hand, lips parted and eyes wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve leans down, covering Tony’s body with his own, and his cock brushes against Tony’s as they kiss again. Tony spreads his legs wider, bending them at the knee with his toes already curling into the mattress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving further down the bed, Steve lays flat on his stomach between Tony’s legs. He licks clean the slick from Tony’s thighs first, and he moans at the taste of him, sweet and vibrant on his tongue. Another mark is placed on his inner thigh, and Tony’s fingers twist in his hair while he makes it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets a taste of the precome next, a bitter note mixed in with the sweetness as he takes the head of Tony’s cock into his mouth. Tony’s hips buck up from the bed, and Steve keeps him still with one hand while the other circles around his slick-soaked entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushes one finger in slowly, and Tony’s body lets him in without resistance. Another finger is added fairly quickly while Steve lowers himself to take more of Tony into his mouth. His size is a bit above what Steve expected for an omega, and he has to take harsh breaths through his nose to keep from gagging when it reaches the back of his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, God,” Tony gasps. “Not - fuck - not gonna last long if you do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pulls off to tell him, “That’s okay. I’ll just have to make you come twice, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s reply is cut off with a high-pitched moan when Steve crooks his fingers inside of him to rub against his prostate. He hits the spot over and over, swirling his tongue over the head of Tony’s cock as he does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony clenches around his fingers as he comes into Steve’s waiting mouth. His eyes are screwed shut, and the hand that isn’t in Steve’s hair grips the sheet with white knuckles.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve works him through it, moving his mouth away when Tony starts to whine from oversensitivity. He slowly pulls his fingers out, and Tony’s eyes are on him as he sucks them clean of Tony’s slick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Giving him a short break, Steve kisses him again, and he knows that Tony must be able to taste himself on his tongue and lips. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, and if anything, he seems to like it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their kiss is unhurried and soft, continuing that way until Tony breaks it to say, “Really need you in me now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve reaches down between Tony’s legs, testing how prepared he is. Three fingers slide in rather easily, and Tony whines, “Don’t need anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve quiets him with a filthy kiss, but only gives another minute of prep before he can’t take it anymore, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans back and takes himself in one hand, gripping Tony’s thigh with the other. Then he remembers, “Oh, shit. Condom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shakes his head quickly. “Don’t need one if you don’t want it. I’m on birth control, and I’m definitely clean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony wraps his leg around Steve’s waist in reply, urging him forward so the head of his cock is pressed against his entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes slowly, then waits once he’s bottomed out. His knot is already beginning to swell, and the waiting is actually just as much for him not to come too early as it is for Tony to adjust to the stretch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve doesn’t move until Tony tells him he can, and even then he starts out gentle. He pulls out almost all the way on every thrust and angles himself to hit Tony’s prostate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He maintains the slow pace until he’s almost losing his mind from it and needs more. Lifting Tony’s leg, he puts it on his shoulder and drives into him harder and deeper. Tony moans at the change, fingers digging into Steve’s bicep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shifting positions, he leans down to kiss Tony’s neck again and whisper in his ear, “You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grips the back of Steve’s neck, keeping him close, as if he would possibly want to be anywhere else. His voice is broken as he says, “Just for you, a-alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve groans at the use of the name, so unexpected, but definitely welcome. Some don’t like to use it at all, and others prefer to only use it for those they’re actually bonded to, but Tony is apparently in neither category. Steve fucking loves it. He kisses him hard and tightens his grip on Tony’s hip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such a good omega, baby. Pretty little thing driving me crazy for weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony bites his lip, barely hiding a smirk. “S-sorry, alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re not,” Steve grins and nips at Tony’s collarbone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smirk isn’t hidden now. “No, ‘m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony tosses his head back as a particularly hard thrust hits him just right. Steve does it again, loving the way Tony moans out his name when he does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, God, Steve. So close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wraps a hand around his cock, running his thumb through the fluid at the slit and making Tony’s back arch up off the bed. He’s a sight like this, and Steve wants to sear it into his brain for future reference. If this is only a one off, if he never gets to have it again, he wants to remember every part of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony lets out a breathless curse, and he begs, “Steve, alpha, knot me, please. Wanna come on your knot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It makes Steve lose his rhythm a bit, the need in Tony’s voice. His knot has grown thicker, catching on Tony’s rim with every thrust, and it will only take a few more before he won’t be able to pull it out at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moves a little faster, chasing his own orgasm with abandon now that he knows what Tony wants. Tony whispers in his ear, every word dripping with desperation. He says filthy things Steve never would have thought him capable of, and each one pushes him closer to his end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve comes with a strangled shout of Tony’s name, his knot pushing in one last time to lock them together. Tony comes not a moment later in streaks of clear fluid across his stomach. His body tightens in ripples around Steve’s cock, milking every last drop from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes all of his strength not to collapse on top of Tony as he quivers through the aftershocks. He doesn’t realize Tony is still whispering to him at first, but the words are so low he can’t make them out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has just enough energy left to roll them over, careful not to shift too much and tug Tony’s rim with his knot. Tony curls into his chest, both of them breathing hard still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was…” Steve trails off. No word can accurately describe just what it was or what it meant to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony seems to understand. “It was indeed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should we - should we talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t necessary. “We should, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony strokes his fingers lightly over Steve’s skin, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. “Can it wait until the morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, baby,” Steve says, carding his hand through Tony’s curly hair. “It can wait.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony wakes up wrapped in Steve’s strong arms, head pillowed on Steve’s chest. He feels warm and safe, surrounded by the scent of him. Steve is awake already, and his fingers draw random patterns into the bare skin of his back. His voice is low and rough with sleep as he says, “Good morning, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The use of the endearment is reassuring, and it stops the beginnings of the anxious, intrusive thoughts that have him questioning whether or not Steve actually wants him beyond one night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony tilts his head to look at him and finds Steve already looking back. He looks beautiful in the early morning light, with messy hair, bright eyes and a soft smile. Tony smiles back at him and says, “Hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve traces Tony’s jawline with his thumb, holding his face in his hand like he’s something delicate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony remembers last night and their decision to talk about it in the morning, which occurred somewhere in between the multiple rounds they managed to fit into the night. It was like both of them were in silent agreement to make the most of the time they had, but now that time is up, and the bandaid needs to be ripped off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Tony starts, “it’s morning now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should probably talk about our feelings or whatever,” Tony grumbles, sounding petulant even to his own ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “You make it sound like we’re being sent to war. Is it really that bad to talk about your feelings with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, feelings are traditionally gross and terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles, and then Tony finds himself on his back with Steve hovering over him, suddenly very aware that both of them are still naked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning down, Steve presses his lips to the underside of Tony’s jaw and slowly slides them further down his neck. Tony tilts his head to the side and tangles his hand in Steve’s short hair, biting his lip to hold back the sound he wants to make.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s tongue circles his bonding gland, and Tony can feel his body start to react to it. He sucks lightly on it, and Tony stutters out, “T-this is not talking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s an active demonstration,” Steve mumbles against his throat. His teeth scrape against sensitive skin, causing Tony to tighten his grip in Steve’s hair. Steve pulls back too quickly for Tony’s liking, a cocky smirk on his face. “Did you get the message?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony rolls his eyes and pulls Steve back down, crashing their mouths together. It starts passionate and heated, but slows to gentle, caring brushes of lips and tongues. He takes special pride in causing the dazed look on Steve’s face when it ends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you get mine?” Tony teases back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grins and leans down for another kiss that Tony happily gives him. He nuzzles his face into the side of Tony’s throat and murmurs, “You smell so good, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrapping his arms around Steve, he asks, “So just to be clear, this is a thing now, right? Like you and me. Together. Dating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think I could let you go now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I was hoping not, because that would’ve really sucked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve scoots down the bed, and Tony spreads his legs wider to accommodate the movement. He follows a path similar to last night, kissing down Tony’s chest, but the goal doesn’t seem to sex this time. He skips over Tony’s most sensitive areas, content just to touch him and be close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we - can we keep it between us, though?” Tony asks hesitantly while Steve’s lips are pressed to the spot just above his navel. Steve glances up at him, his chin jutting into Tony’s stomach. “Just for now, while we’re still figuring it out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want Bucky to know.” It isn’t a question, and Steve’s voice is carefully neutral. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony bites his lip. “Not yet. It’s just that I’m not sure what he’d say, and I like you. I want to actually give this a chance, and I feel like if we tell him about it, he won’t like it. I mean, you’ve seen how protective he is. I wouldn’t want to cause something to happen between the two of you when he finds out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods, “I don’t think we should tell him either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A waiter looked at you for a second too long the other day, and Bucky looked like he wanted to snap his neck,” Steve reminds him, lips tugging up into a small smile. “I’m trying to stay unmurdered.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wouldn’t kill you,” Tony laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve lifts himself up on his hands, kissing Tony’s jaw again. “Baby, if he knew anything about what I did to you last night, I’d be buried in a hole in the woods before noon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hums and takes Steve’s face in his hands, pulling him back to his mouth. He has the feeling that he could kiss Steve a million times and it would never be enough; he’ll always want more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like it when you call me that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call you what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby,” Tony says. “No one ever has before. Not like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve kisses him below his ear, then whispers, “I like it when you do it, too, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles, and he would be perfectly happy to stay exactly right here all day, but he knows they’re on a bit of a deadline. “What time do you think Bucky will be back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve glances over at the nightstand, presumably at the clock there. “It’s Wednesday, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I think so? Don’t give me that look, you weren’t sure either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s got a morning class right now. Should already be there,” Steve says, then bends again to kiss Tony again. He seems to be in agreement that there’s no such thing as too many of those. “What time is your first class?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ten thirty. Yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pushes the fallen hair back off of Steve’s forehead. “So what I’m hearing is that we’ve got about an hour before either one of has to get up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve raises an eyebrow, “It’s 9:03.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you making it to class on time if you don’t get up until ten?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grins, “Easy. You’re going to drive me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “Oh, am I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pushes on Steve’s shoulder with his hand and on Steve’s thigh with his knee at the same time, flipping them over so he’s straddling Steve’s hips. He runs his hands over Steve’s chest, and his fingers linger on the faint scattering of marks he left there the night before. Most of the evidence of last night is on his own skin, but the sight of it on Steve’s causes a wave of possessiveness to course through him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony leans down, kisses the most prominent bruise on Steve’s chest, then looks up at him demurely through his eyelashes. “Yes, you are. Because I have boyfriend privileges now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look Steve gives him is adoring. “Boyfriend, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhm,” Tony nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like the sound of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony mouths a wet stripe down Steve’s abdomen. “Secret boyfriend. You know what that means?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shakes his head, and Tony can’t blame him for being unable to follow his line of thinking right now. After all, Tony’s mouth is an inch away from where his cock, already hard and red, is leaking onto his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony dips the tip of his tongue into the slit, lifting up just in time that Steve’s jerking hips meet nothing but air. “It means that it’s even hotter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching behind himself, Tony slips two fingers into his hole to test the resistance. After last night, he doesn’t need much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve watches him intently as he uses his fingers on himself, and Tony can’t resist putting on a bit of a show. He tosses his head back, exposing the long line of his neck, and pushes back onto his hand. The other is on Steve’s thigh as he leans back, holding him up, and feels Steve’s hands gripping his hips, equal parts possessive and steadying.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, baby,” Steve says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pulls his fingers out and strokes the slick on them over Steve’s cock. He pushes up on his knees and lines himself up, Steve’s hands tightening into a bruising hold as Tony sinks down onto him. There’s a slight burn from the stretch, and Tony loves every second of it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’s taken every inch of him, Tony leans down for another kiss, then starts off a quick rhythm. Steve’s hips rise up to meet his as he comes back down, and he uses his grip on Tony’s hips to lift him back up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony plants his hands on Steve’s chest for leverage, but eventually it’s too hard to hold himself up and endure the way Steve’s cock is nailing every sensitive spot he has. His thighs are shaking, too, and he lets himself fall onto Steve’s chest, forehead on Steve’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns his head, mouthing at Steve’s bonding gland. It makes him move even faster, punching a loud moan out of Tony that only serves to spur him on further. He knows he can come just like this, untouched while Steve’s knot continues to expand inside of him, and he just needs a little more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alpha, please,” Tony whimpers. He saw the look on Steve’s face when he used the title last night, could smell the way his arousal grew even stronger and filled the air with apples and brown sugar. He knew Steve would probably like it, but he wasn’t expecting the effect to be so strong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Steve groans at the use of it, and Tony winds up on his back so fast it makes him dizzy. Every push of the knot against his rim pushes him closer to the edge, and Steve can’t be much further behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knot me, alpha,” Tony says, fingernails digging into Steve’s shoulder blades as he clings to him. “Make me yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s voice is a near growl. “Mine. My omega.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yours, baby. All yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the feeling of Steve’s knot finally popping that does him in. He sees white as he comes, Steve’s cock grinding against his prostate and his knot tugging at his rim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body feels loose, every bit of tension leaving his body. The weight of Steve on top of him is comforting, and he strokes his hand through Steve’s hair as he shivers through the last of his orgasm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve rolls them to their sides, his arms wrapped tight around Tony’s body. Tony closes his eyes and buries his face in Steve’s chest, getting comfortable while they wait for the knot to go down. He can feel Steve’s heart where his forehead lays, pulsing rapidly beneath his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should really shower before we go,” Steve says. He runs a finger around the spot where they’re connected, and Tony jolts in his hold. “You’re a mess, honey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whose fault is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe it was you that started it. I’m completely innocent here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony tilts his head back to raise his eyebrow at him. “You just fucked me so hard I’m pretty sure I saw God for a second, and I don’t even believe in God. You have no innocence left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs and cups his chin, drawing him in for a kiss. “Still your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing contently, Tony agrees, “Yeah, it was. Totally worth it, though.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>going out with nat and buck tonight. are you coming?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do you want me to?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>i miss you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>You saw me yesterday. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>and?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing, I miss you too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve’s phone vibrates in his hand as he’s midway through composing a follow up text. “Yes, baby?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better be coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “If you’d waited ten seconds, you would’ve gotten a text saying that I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can hear the smile in Tony’s voice. “Oh, good. I don’t wanna be the third wheel. Although now it’s sort of like a double date, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A secret double date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s weird, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs even though Tony can’t see it. He puts the phone on speaker and sets it on his dresser so he can get back to working on his art project. “Kind of. But we did it before we were dating all the time. It’d seem weird if we stopped now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hated it before we were dating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I wanted to be dating you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah,” Steve says, smiling as he mixes blue and white paint together on his pallet. “I actually thought the same thing. You remember when we saw that movie with Bucky and Nat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pauses, then asks, “That really bad one with the guy from that one show?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a terrible description, baby, but yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember any of it, because I was trying not to stare at you the whole time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “I don’t really remember it either. I think you touched my hand by accident once and I blacked out. Maybe it wasn’t even that bad of a movie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t an accident,” Steve admits. “Definitely did it on purpose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs again, even brighter this time, and the sound makes Steve smile. “Are you serious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I am. I liked you a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next you’re going to tell me that you’re actually a physics genius, aren’t you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, God no. I think I’m probably worse than you believe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Tony teases. “The bar is already set pretty low.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “Hey, I got a B on that last test.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you really? That’s great, baby,” Tony says sincerely. “I’m proud of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve switches brushes, dipping the new one in vibrant red. “Well, I think you get about fifty percent of the credit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fifty’s way too high, but I’ll take it anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reply dies on his tongue when he hears the front door opening. He drops his paintbrush back into its cup and snatches the phone, turning it off speaker and putting it to his ear. Keeping his voice low, he says, “Hey, sweetheart, I’ve gotta go. Bucky just got back from class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, babe,” Tony says easily. “See you soon, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, see you soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hangs up just in time for Bucky to call his name, and a moment later his bedroom door is opening. His heart rate has picked up, even though he hasn’t actually gotten caught doing anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Steve greets, slipping his phone back into his back pocket. “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat and I are going out with Tony tonight. Wanna come?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pretends to consider it, turning back to his painting to hide his face. “Where are you going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That diner on Mass Ave. Tony wanted pancakes for dinner, and he says they have the best ones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can hear Bucky’s eye roll, and Steve smiles to himself. Tony keeps a ranking in the notes app on his phone, with overly detailed notes on the best places to get all of his favorite foods. Steve saw it for the first time yesterday and honestly fell a little harder for no particular reason at all. Maybe it was the way he looked a little embarrassed of it, but still showed it to him, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay. When are we leaving?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause, and Steve assumes Bucky is checking the time. “I have to pick up Nat from work, so fifteen minutes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods, “Mind if I meet you there? I want to get some more work done on this before it dries weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure,” Bucky says. “I told Tony to be there at six, so as long as you’re there by six thirty, you’re still on time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “Alright, I’ll be there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits until he hears his bedroom door shut again, then waits another few seconds after that until Steve grabs his phone from his pocket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you taking the bus?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna walk. it’s not far</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I may or may not have lied to Bucky about needing to drive separate so I can drive you home. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>oooh sneaky</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>i like it baby</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only question is what do I tell him when I come home an hour late?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh damn what are we getting up to in the car for a full hour??? i like it even more now</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>fake homework?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perfect. I could leave early and pick you up too?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>meet me outside my dorm?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Be there in 25 minutes. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steve puts the phone away again and resumes painting. He’s lost some of his concentration to the portion of his mind that can’t seem to stop imagining the taste of whipped cream and maple syrup in Tony’s mouth later. His progress is minimal after that, almost non-existent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Bucky calls out that he’s leaving, Steve spares just enough time to wash his brushes before he’s collecting his wallet and keys and running out the door. He gets to Cambridge in record time, just barely obeying traffic laws, and pulls up outside Tony’s building.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony is already outside, bundled in a winter jacket and scarf even though it’s only October. He grins, and his lips are on Steve’s the second he’s in the car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve tugs on the end of the scarf and asks, “Preparing for snow already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs into their next kiss. “I’m from Cali. Fifty degrees might as well be the next ice age.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember Buck being the same way. First time we had practice outside in March, he complained about getting frostbite the whole time.” Steve rejoins the traffic on the street, slipping his hand into one of Tony’s and brushing his thumb over his cold fingers. “Actually, he still does that. Definitely wasn’t exclusive to the first time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starks were not made for northeast winters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles, “Then I think you might have picked the wrong school, honey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Correction: Starks were made to withstand northeast winters just long enough to graduate college, and that’s it. That’s all my dad could handle, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your dad went to school out here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, “MIT. That’s why Bucky’s a Red Sox fan. My dad took him to his very first baseball game at Fenway when we were out here for him to give some sort of alumni presentation. I was there, too, but I was three. Not as impactful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why you chose MIT? Because he went there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugs, “Partially. I think I would have gone here anyway, just because it’s the best for what I want to do, but I like that it’s sort of a tradition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The diner is a short drive from Tony’s dorm room, and Steve pulls the car into the parking lot. Bucky’s car isn’t here yet, and Steve estimates that they have at least ten more minutes before he’ll get here. He chooses a spot in the back of the lot, right next to a large truck that should block them from view. Even if they lose track of time, they shouldn’t be seen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns off the ignition, then pulls Tony in by the scarf for a kiss. The center console digs into his ribs as he gets as close to him as he possibly can. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of Tony’s hands slips beneath his sweatshirt, and Steve jumps at the sudden cold on his lower back. “Jesus, baby, your hands are still frozen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why you’re warming them up,” Tony says, and the other one joins the first underneath his shirt. He laughs when Steve jolts again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes a half-hearted attempt to slap Tony’s hands away, but doesn’t actually move them. “I am not your personal space heater.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony giggles, pressing his lips against Steve’s neck, right against his bonding gland. It sends a shiver down his spine and ignites a heat in his stomach that he really shouldn’t have right now when there’s nothing he can do about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boyfriend privileges.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kisses Tony again, using two fingers to tilt his chin up. There’s a taste of something sweet on his tongue, and Steve kisses him until he can’t taste it anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are my boyfriend privileges?” Steve asks jokingly. “You seem to get all of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You get me. I’m the privilege.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kisses the spot below Tony’s ear, making him sigh happily as Steve lightly sucks on it. “I can’t even argue with that. You are something else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am, aren’t I?” Tony grins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve threads his fingers through Tony’s hair, tugging gently to pull him back to his mouth. Against his lips he murmurs, “You are, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better hope you don’t slip up and call me that in front of Bucky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just as likely as I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony raises an eyebrow, “Wanna bet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “No, I don’t. I’d rather neither of us fucked up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pouts, bottom lip sticking out, and Steve can’t resist tracing it with his thumb. “No fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want him to find out?” Steve asks. “Because we could just tell him, but then you’ll have to tell my mom how I died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the ideal first impression.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, no,” Steve smiles. He glances at the clock on the dashboard and says, “We should probably go in before they get here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighs, “Yeah, probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They get out of the car, and Steve does a quick visual sweep of the parking lot to verify that Bucky and Natasha aren’t here yet. He still doesn’t see Bucky’s car, so he feels safe to grab Tony’s hand on the way in. Tony grins when he does, making the risk feel absolutely worth it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They get seated in a booth and pick the side facing the door so they’ll see Bucky and Natasha coming. For now, Steve keeps his hand in Tony’s beneath the table, but they’ve put some distance between themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re telling him eventually, though, right?” Tony asks. Steve glances over at him, unsure of where the question came from. Tony must see his confusion, because he says, “I mean, I know I’m the one who said it should be a secret, but I only meant for a while. You know, until we’re sure about us. Not that I’m not sure about how I feel about you, I just - until it’s serious. Right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve squeezes his hand. He can smell the nervousness coming off of him, and he hates the bitter note it adds to the usual sweet scent. “Tony, of course we’ll tell him eventually. When the time’s right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, lip between his teeth. Steve wants to smooth away the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows, but he can’t. Not when the chances of being seen are this high. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if he really hates it, though? Would you break up with me?” Tony asks, and now Steve sees what the real problem is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m his best friend, and you’re his brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony frowns, “Yeah, I already know what the problem is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles, shaking his head, “No, I mean that if we’re making each other happy, then he’ll get over it. And if he hates anyone for it, it’ll be me, not you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but I don’t want to put you in that position.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What position?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To have to choose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve casts a quick glance over at the door. Still no Bucky, still safe to say, “Tony, it wouldn’t be like that. I wouldn’t break up with you if he hated it, and if he really asked me to choose, well, then I guess he would be making the choice really easy for me, then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony doesn’t look fully convinced, but the bitterness has mostly faded from his scent. “You’d really pick me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It won’t come down to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve really believes that it won’t. That once Bucky has the chance to get used to the idea, he’ll be okay with it. He’s under no delusions that it will be easy, and he might deserve the punch to the face that’s coming his way when they tell him. But eventually it will be fine for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That day just isn’t today, so he drops Tony’s hand when Bucky shows up with Natasha, and he pretends that it doesn’t hurt just a little to do it. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s already dark out by the time Tony hears the knock on the door of his dorm room. Quentin left a while ago for a Halloween party, dressed as some sort of supervillain knockoff, and Tony has the room to himself for at least a few hours. Maybe more if Quentin finds someone else to go home with, as he tends to do. (Though Tony doesn’t understand how. Nothing about him is necessarily appealing, although maybe he’s better for people who don’t have to know him for more than an hour.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony tosses aside the book he was idly flipping through and jumps up to open the door. Steve is standing on the other side, hands in the pockets of his jeans and a soft smile gracing his face. The tip of his nose is flushed pink from the cold, and it’s more adorable than it has any right to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls Steve in by the strings of his hoodie and kicks the door closed behind him with his sock-covered toes. Steve laughs into their kiss, presumably at Tony’s eagerness, but Tony doesn’t care. It’s been three days since they’ve had any real time alone, with conflicting class schedules, Bucky always home, and Quentin being around. They saw each other two days ago for a study session, but Steve actually needed help, and then he had to get to the art store for his shift. Tony barely got a hello and goodbye kiss that day, and he intends to make up for it now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s arms wrap tightly around his midsection, pulling him close to his chest, while Tony stands on his toes to snake his arms around Steve’s shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you,” Steve murmurs when he pulls back. He doesn’t go very far, resting his forehead against Tony’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grins, “I don’t think it’s a competition, doll.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if it was, I would be winning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think technically you’re losing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony considers that and frowns, “Well, fuck. You’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, and it’s so nice to hear it again. Tony wonders briefly if there’s a point where he’ll stop feeling this way, when two days apart stops feeling like an eternity and the sound of Steve’s laugh doesn’t bring him a sense of contentment and happiness like he’s never known before. He doesn’t want to know if there is. He wants it to always stay this way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve kisses him again, and the bittersweet thought leaves his mind just as quickly as it came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grabs his hand and pulls him further into the room. There’s a bag sitting next to his bed, loaded with Halloween candy and sugary drinks that he bought this morning in preparation for tonight. The plan is movies on Tony’s laptop, snuggled together in his small bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halloween provided the perfect excuse for both of them to spend the evening together. Steve isn’t a fan of the holiday, and Tony dislikes parties. Bucky loves both, so he isn’t around to question where Steve is, and he understood when Tony declined the invitation to go out with him and Nat tonight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve toes off his shoes, and by the time Tony has retrieved his laptop from his desk and the bag from the floor, he’s already in bed with the corner of the blanket pulled back for Tony to join him.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gets in, pulls the blanket up over both them, and settles back against Steve’s chest. Steve surrounds him fully like this, one of his legs slipping in between Tony’s to tangle them together. It’s safe and warm, and the scent of apples and honey is starting to feel like home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What first?” Tony asks, adjusting the laptop screen so they can both see it. Although with the way his face seems to be plastered to the back of Tony’s neck, he doubts Steve can really see much anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you want, baby,” Steve says, muffled against Tony’s skin. “Just nothing scary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a fan of horror?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Movies are supposed to be enjoyable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles as he scrolls through movie options. “Some people think it’s fun to be scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some people also think pineapple on pizza is good, but those people are wrong, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony looks over his shoulder to glare at him. “Don’t make me kick you out of my bed. I’ll do it, and then neither one of us will be happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grins, wrapping himself around Tony like an octopus. “You wouldn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve calls his bluff. “Then do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gives him another glare, but Steve meets it with an adoring look in his eyes, amplified by the soft smile on his face. “The only reason I’m not is because I don’t want to be cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, baby,” Steve says lightly, kissing the back of Tony’s neck. “I’ll pretend I believe that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re on thin ice, Rogers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, the vibration reverberating in Tony’s chest. He kisses Tony’s neck again, this time right over the tendon on the side, slower and with intention. He isn’t playing fair at all. “Am I, Stark?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony practically melts into his arms, biting his lip so he doesn’t make a sound. “Oh, shut up and pick a movie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A softer kiss, then Steve asks, “What about the Charlie Brown special? Can’t go wrong with a classic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, “Let me find it somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he finds it and gets it started, he reaches for the bag, pulling out two smaller bags of candy, and asks, “Peanut m&amp;m’s or regular? And before you say anything, I should warn you that your answer to this might make me break up with you if you get it wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a wrong answer for my personal preference?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just told me my pizza preference was wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I stand by it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you do,” Tony grins. “C’mon, pick one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve is quiet for long enough that Tony turns his head to look at him. His mouth is slightly open, tongue poking out between his teeth like it does sometimes when he’s thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re taking this very seriously,” Tony says, tapping Steve’s bottom lip with his index finger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it is our relationship on the line,” Steve jokes. “How about I take whichever one you don’t want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s such a cop out,” Tony laughs. “But it’s also the perfect answer, so here’s your peanut m&amp;m’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, good. I actually like these more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony kisses the cute smile on Steve’s face and relaxes back into his arms. They turn their attention to the movie playing on the laptop and eat their candy. Every once and awhile, Steve touches him casually, almost subconsciously, and Tony can’t help the flurry of butterflies he feels each time. He traces absentminded fingers over Tony’s bare arms, nuzzles his face closer into the back of his neck, presses gentle kisses into his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s never had this kind of thing before. He’s never had a boyfriend that was so content just to be with him without pretense. His other relationships always seemed to want something from him, whether physically or otherwise. Steve just wants him - plain and simple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s somewhat difficult to wrap his head around why he would want that. Tony doesn’t see himself as any special, beyond the obvious of his looks. He has his brain, too, but most people don’t want that. Most alphas will claim they like a smart omega, but in actuality they never want one smarter than them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even Tony’s friends will tell him that he’s too much sometimes. Too many opinions that he holds a little too strongly and expresses too vocally. He doesn’t compromise as much as he probably should, holds grudges, and doesn’t like admitting when he’s wrong. He’s well aware of his multitude of flaws, and there’s a part of him that’s worried that Steve will see them one day and run. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But so far he hasn’t, and the flaws haven’t exactly been hidden. He was himself from the beginning, and they still ended up here somehow. Steve still wanted him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs at something in the movie, and Tony wasn’t paying enough attention to know what, but the sound alone is enough to make him smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He twines his fingers with Steve’s and brings their joined hands up to his lips to kiss the back of Steve’s. In response, Steve burrows even closer into him until every inch of them is connected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long can you stay?” Tony asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When is your roommate coming back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m hoping he’ll spontaneously decide to drop out and move to Alaska to live in the wilderness, but if he doesn’t do that, he’ll probably be gone for another couple of hours. One a.m., maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can feel Steve’s smile against his neck. “I can stay until then. Bucky will probably be out even later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finish the rest of the movie, making their way through more of the candy. They split the peanut cups, mini chocolate bars, and gummy bears. Steve shares his controversial opinion that nuggat is disgusting and, therefore, so are the miniature Three Musketeers and Snickers bars. Tony eats those himself, while Steve puts almost an entire packet of Pop Rocks in his mouth at once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m dying,” Tony says when the movie is done, rolling over to bury his face in Steve’s chest. “Why did you let me eat so much candy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, running a comforting hand up and down Tony’s back. “I think I told you that you should stop after the box of Nerds, and do you remember what you said?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is now really the time to dredge up my past mistakes, Steven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said, and I quote, ‘I’ll be fine, Steve. I know my limits.’ Do you remember that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pleading the fifth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, that’s convenient.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony groans as his stomach churns uncomfortably, “Please put me out of my misery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t, sorry. I would miss you too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony huffs a laugh, “That’s so selfish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve cards his hand through Tony’s hair and kisses the top of his head. “So sorry for wanting to keep you around, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should be. Big mistake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agree to disagree on that one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighs as the wave of nausea passes for the time being. “Do you want to watch something else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. You pick this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shakes his head as best as he can from where it’s firmly planted against Steve’s body. “I like it when you pick. I wanna know what you like.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it have to be Halloween related?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not if you don’t want it to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve stretches to reach the laptop, and a few moments later he hears the opening notes to The Lion King. He glances up at Steve with a raised eyebrow. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, “You wanted to know what I like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles and puts his head back down, closing his eyes. “Not what I was expecting, but I like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I used to watch this all the time when I was kid. I think I drove my mom crazy with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hasn’t talked about his mom much yet, not with many details, anyway, so Tony asks, “What’s your mom like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s…” Steve trails off, gesturing vaguely in the air as he presumably thinks off the right words. “Protective, and patient, and easily the strongest person I’ve ever known. She worked a lot when I was growing up. Still does, but back then I never realized that everything she did was so I wouldn’t be wanting for anything. We didn’t have a lot, but I never really knew that as a kid. She worked hard so I didn’t have to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does she do? Her job, I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s a nurse, and if you ask her about it, she’ll tell you some of the grossest stories you’ve ever heard in your life. Nothing like that really fazes me anymore, because she’d tell them right at the dinner table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “My mom faints at the sight of blood. I skinned my knee once really bad when I was five or six, and she got a concussion from passing out in the kitchen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fell fifteen feet from a tree when I was ten, and my mom didn’t even blink when my bone was literally sticking out of my arm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony recoils, “Oh, gross. Remind me to never ask your mom for her stories if I ever meet her. I’m scared of what she thinks is normal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’d like you,” Steve says, and Tony looks up to see Steve’s smile. His face is illuminated in blues from the screen, highlighting every dip and jut. He looks beautiful like this, all soft and cozy in Tony’s bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony curls back into Steve, listening to the movie and Steve’s steady heartbeat beneath his ear. Steve plays with the curls at the nape of his neck, twirling them around his fingers, and neither of them moves until it’s time for Steve to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony resists the urge to outright pout when Steve gets out of bed. He shivers when the cold air hits him and says, “You’re taking all the warmth with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning down, Steve kisses him, long and slow. When he straightens back up, he peels off his sweatshirt, leaving him in just a black t-shirt, and hands it to Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grins, “To keep you warm, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony is beaming as he pulls it on over his shirt, drowning himself in the fabric. The sleeves are long enough to cover his hands completely, and the hem will probably drop to his mid-thigh if he stands up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifts the collar up to his nose to inhale Steve’s scent, and when he looks back up at Steve, he can’t possibly miss the possessive look on his face. Nor can he miss the growing bulge in Steve’s jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How does it look?” Tony asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve groans, running a hand down his face, “This was a very bad idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “Why’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know exactly why.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gets up from the bed, crossing the short distance to where Steve is standing, and wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “I want you to tell me anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s hands slip beneath the sweatshirt, and he palms Tony’s ass through his pajama bottoms. “I need to take the world’s coldest shower now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alphas are so easy to rile up, I swear,” Tony sighs, shaking his head fondly. He kisses Steve again, teasing and quick. Not enough to satisfy, but enough to make him desperate for more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he pushes Steve toward the door and cheerfully says, “I’ll see you on Monday, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve makes a whiny sound. “You’re horrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have fun with your shower,” Tony smirks and twirls one of the strings of the sweatshirt around his finger. “And I hope you know you’re never getting this back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles, and Tony indulges him when he leans in for one last kiss, “Looks better on you anyway.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>happy election day to my fellow americans :) if you can and haven't already, don't forget to vote!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I knew this was a bad idea,” Tony sighs, and Steve glances up at him from his position between Tony’s legs. He can feel the slick coating his chin, but he doesn’t bother wiping it off. It’ll just get messy again in a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was your idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gives him an incredulous look. “No, it wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you wanted to study here instead of the library,” Steve reminds him, then ducks back down to circle his tongue around Tony’s entrance. Another gush of slick comes out, and Steve laps it up with a groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gasps, fingers tightening in Steve’s hair, then says, “Exactly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Study.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I want the record to reflect that you were the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. I was minding my own business, trying to help you with physics, but you - fuck, right there, baby - you just had to start something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pushes his tongue in deeper, as far as he can go, and wraps his hand around Tony’s cock. He thumbs at the slit, using the precome gathered there to smooth his glide down his length. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is his fault, he knows. Tony really was just helping him with his physics homework, but Steve couldn’t focus. They have the apartment to themselves while Bucky is out for a study group, and Tony looks really cute when he’s talking about inertia and rotational motion. So Steve might not get his homework done today, but this is better, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony is spread out on his bed, his shirt still on, pants on Steve’s floor, and his underwear around one ankle. Steve is still fully dressed, laying on his stomach between Tony’s legs. Their textbooks and notes are left abandoned on the kitchen table for the time being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pulls back, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers and scissoring them out. Tony moans loudly when he twists his fingers inside of him just right, then shudders when the rough pad of Steve’s thumb strokes beneath the head of his cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So close, baby,” Tony mumbles, back arching off the bed. “Shit, your hands are…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony cuts off when Steve licks a stripe up the underside of his cock, following along the vein. His own hips are thrusting carelessly against the bed, spurred on by the sounds falling from Tony’s mouth. He’s close himself, though he’s trying to hold off from coming in his jeans. It’s futile, though, because the feeling of Tony clenching around his fingers and the look on his face as he comes from Steve’s hands is too much for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, honey, that was… fuck,” Tony pants and reaches down to bring Steve up to him. Steve wipes his fingers on his pants, figuring they’re a lost cause anyway. He kisses Tony and jerks when Tony’s hand rubs against the front of his jeans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t really need that,” Steve admits, cheeks heating up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s hot,” Tony says, and the slight embarrassment leaves him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve kisses him again and resists the urge to scent him like he wants to. He’ll already smell suspiciously strong of him without it, and it’s not a risk he’s willing to take when Bucky should be home within the next hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reluctantly, Steve sits back and says, “Let me grab a towel, and I’ll clean you up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, and Steve gets up to go to the bathroom. He grabs a washcloth from the cabinet and runs it under warm water, then brings it back to the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony is shirtless when he comes back, and Steve asks, “Why are you wearing less clothes now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you made me come on my shirt,” Tony says pointedly, holding out the shirt as evidence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs as he gets back on the bed, “Sorry, baby. You can take something of mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wipes away the slick from Tony’s thighs with gentle hands, then bends to kiss him once more. Getting back up, he tosses his pants and boxers into his laundry basket, wipes away his own sticky mess, and changes into new ones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony has his underwear and pants back on when Steve turns to ask, “Sweatshirt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gives him an older one, worn about a hundred times so it smells strongly of him. He feels the same possessive rush from the other night when Tony puts it on, and his cock gives an interested twitch, but he tampers down the desire to do something about it. They don’t have time for another go right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes Tony’s hand, and they go back to the kitchen table. Focus comes easier now that he isn’t thoroughly distracted by everything Tony does. They’re three problems further down the sheet when Tony’s phone buzzes on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony reaches for it and says, “Bucky wants to know if I’m staying for dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve glances up from his calculator. “My answer to that is never going to be no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony types something back, and a moment later asks, “Do you want pizza? He said he’ll bring it home with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without looking up from his phone, Tony says, “You forgot to divide that by two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve rechecks his math and swears, “I fucking hate physics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t blame the physics,” Tony laughs, putting his phone back on the table. Then he stands and plops himself down in Steve’s lap. “He’ll be here in twenty. Want to make out for fifteen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to it being a bad idea, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles and kisses Steve’s jaw. “You have shown me the light. Now hush, we only have fourteen minutes and thirty seven seconds left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fourteen minutes and thirty eight seconds later, Tony gets off of Steve’s laps and slides himself back into his chair. His lips are wet and red, his hair is thoroughly disheveled, and Steve is willing to bet he looks much the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs as he runs a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down. “That one was definitely a bad call and also your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were complicit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of us really has to find self-control,” Steve sighs, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles, “I vote you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, I was going to vote for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reply dies mid-sentence at the sound of the front door opening, and Bucky is walking inside with a stack of pizza’s five minutes earlier than expected. Steve hastily reaches for his pencil, and Tony starts talking about rotational motion like he never stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey guys,” Bucky greets, coming into the kitchen and setting the food on the counter. “How’s the studying going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Steve tries to say, but it comes out as a strained squeak. He clears his throat and tries again, “It’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s your group project coming along?” Tony asks, giving Steve a sideways glance while Bucky grabs plates from the cabinet. He tells Steve with his eyes to get it together, and Steve tells him in return that he’s trying to. They learned early on that Steve is a truly terrible actor, and it isn’t getting any better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky puts the stack of plates on the table with a shrug, then goes back to grab the pizzas and bring them over. “Fine, I guess. There’s four of us, and no one’s on the same page. Carol wants to focus on one thing, Maria wants to do another, and Brock doesn’t even know what the fuck is going on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he’s talking, Bucky goes to the fridge and grabs two beers and a can of pop. He puts the beers down in front of him and Steve, sliding the pop can over to Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we chose something by the end, but honestly, I’m not sure,” he says, sitting down across from Steve at the round table. He juts his chin out toward Steve’s study materials and asks, “How much do you guys have left?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony answers for them, “Maybe another half hour’s worth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, you’ve got a lot of homework this week, Stevie. It’s already been, what? Two hours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah,” Steve says. He tucks his notebook inside his textbook and pushes both to the side. Reaching for the pizza, he hopes to mask the awkwardness he’s feeling by giving himself something to do besides outright lie to his best friend. “It’s a tough subject this week, is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nods, taking a sip from his beer. As he’s putting the bottle down, his eyes narrow at Tony. “Is that Steve’s sweatshirt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve freezes, because while he took every precaution to make sure they wouldn’t be caught, he completely overlooked one of the most obvious ones. Tony’s stained t-shirt would have been less obvious, even. At least no one could have proven that Steve was the one that made him come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony takes it in stride. “Yeah. I got cold. He let me borrow it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s frown deepens. “Why didn’t you take one of mine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t even think about it. Steve noticed I was cold and offered me his, so I took it,” Tony shrugs easily. And, because he’s the master of diversion, points to the pizza and asks, “Which one of these doesn’t have onions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s the bottom one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they sort out the pizzas, Bucky asks Tony, “Have you called Mom lately?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I think I talked to her on Monday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was three days ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And she asked me if you’d been kidnapped when I talked to her this morning, because apparently you should have called yesterday,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. “She was very dramatic about it. You probably have to beg for forgiveness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighs, “Why doesn’t she just call me herself instead of telling you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you met our mother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still maintain she could call instead of getting you to guilt me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She didn’t tell me to guilt you, and if you feel guilty that’s because you should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony snorts, “What a classic Mom thing to say. You really sound just like her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky flips him off with his mouth stuffed full of pizza, and when he’s done chewing, they fall right back into the lighthearted bickering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve relaxes while listening to them go back and forth, with Bucky filling him in on everything that happened during his phone call with their mom while they eat. Apparently Maria Stark is a bit of a gossip, and by the end of it, Steve knows more about the wives of the California’s wealthy elite than he ever needed to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call her tonight, though,” Bucky says, standing up from the table with his grease-covered plate. He ruffles Tony’s hair on the way over to the sink, and Tony bats his hand away with an adorable scowl. “She misses you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call her later,” Tony says, and Bucky gives him a knowing look that makes Tony roll his eyes. “I swear I will. I’ll call her when I get back to my dorm. We still have more physics to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nods, grabbing his beer and taking another drink. As he turns to go into the living room, he asks over his shoulder, “Do you want a ride back? I can take you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve and Tony exchange looks, and Tony quickly replies, “Uh, no. Steve will take me. He owes me coffee for the tutoring still.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the living room, Bucky calls out, “Don’t get him coffee this late. He says he can handle it, but he can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can, too,” Tony shouts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t get him any.” Steve looks over at Tony and drops his voice quieter, “Do you actually want coffee? I can stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I’m good,” Tony grins. “But you’re going to tell Bucky that there was a long line.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Tony started college, he was already looking forward to Thanksgiving break. Almost three months without seeing his parents is definitely too long, and he was excited to go back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, it’s bittersweet. He’s still excited to see his parents and his friends, but he isn’t happy about the break from Steve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve left for New York on Tuesday afternoon, about an hour before Bucky and Tony’s flight to California. They waited together at the airport until it was time for Steve to board, and the hug they shared was chaste and friendly with Bucky standing right there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first two days don’t really give him a chance to miss Steve too much, though, with how busy he’s kept. Wednesday is spent catching up with his parents over breakfast, followed by shopping with his mom, then time in the lab with his dad. Thursday is for the actual holiday, and it’s just like every other Thanksgiving they’ve had before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spends most of the morning and afternoon helping Ana and Jarvis in the kitchen and getting caught up on everything he missed from them. They always have the best gossip, even better than his mom, because people have a tendency to forget that cooks have ears, too. Bucky and their dad watch the football games in the living room and shout so loudly at the TV that Tony can hear it clearly down the hall. Tony never knows who they’re rooting for, and he’s pretty sure they don’t actually know, either. They seem to root for both sides in equal measure and come out on the winning side no matter what. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mom pops between the kitchen, living room, and dining room. She helps where she can in the kitchen, but she’s truly a disaster at anything that requires actual skill. She’s the only person Tony’s ever met that manages to make a potato shrink in half by peeling it. So she steals handfuls of blueberries that were supposed to go into the pie and sneakily passes them to Tony when no one else is looking, and she comes in from the living room to make jokes about “alphas and their sports.” The dining room gets overly decorated, with autumn oranges, yellows, and red covering every possible surface, even though it’s just the four of them, plus Ana and Jarvis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner follows the same routine as usual, too. His parents insist that Ana and Jarvis join them, and they politely decline the first seven invitations, then accept the eighth. Bucky sits to Tony’s left, Ana to Tony’s right. There’s comfort in the familiarity of it all, and Tony knows he’s going to miss it when he has to go back again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper comes over on Friday, and it’s so good to see her that Tony could cry. No matter how many friends he makes in college - and he’s made his fair share - she’ll always be his first and favorite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I may have done a bad thing,” Tony says. They’re sitting on the floor of Tony’s bedroom, legs criss crossed and two forks and the remains of a pecan pie between them. “Remember how you told me not to date my brother’s best friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper groans, “Tony, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony, yes,” he sighs. “But in my defense, I told you this would happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is that a defense?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has to be my defense, because I don’t have any other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to getting it out of your system? I thought you said he’d be bad in bed, and you’d be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Turns out he has no flaws,” Tony says. “Well, that’s not completely true. He’s never seen Star Wars, his last Instagram post is from a year and a half ago, and he once said that Ryan Gosling is attractive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper frowns, scooping up another bite of pie with her fork, “What’s wrong with Ryan Gosling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His eyes are too close together. He looks creepy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper laughs, “Alright, controversial celebrity hotness rankings aside, it’s good, though? Dating him, I mean. If that’s what you’re actually doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s…” Tony pauses, trying to think of the right word for it. “Kind of perfect right now, actually. I mean, we haven’t told Bucky yet because of the whole he’d probably murder him thing, so keeping it a secret isn’t all that fun anymore, but the rest of it is really good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anymore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugs and leans back against his bed. “At first it was fine. We’d get together whenever Bucky was out, or Steve would make something up about where he was going. And whenever we’re with Bucky we just pretend we’re friends. But it’s been over a month now, and I couldn’t kiss him goodbye at the airport, so now it’s been five days since I last kissed my boyfriend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I know that you’re making that face right now because I said it’s been a month and this is the first time I’m telling you about it, but that’s the other thing. I can’t really tell anyone, because the more people that know, the riskier it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighs, running his hand through his hair, “Steve thinks he’ll be mad when we tell him, and then he’ll get over it. But I just keep thinking that he’s going to be mad and stay mad, and then I’ll be the reason Steve lost his best friend. So he’s going to resent me for that, and it’s not going to be worth it, and eventually he’ll just break up with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper listens to him rant, going through a wide range of facial expressions and reactions. Her final one seems to be confusion. “It’s Steve’s choice, though, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He chose to date his best friend’s little brother, and I’m going to guess he knows the risk of that, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, “We talked about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why would he resent you for an outcome he knew was a possibility?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because knowing something is a possibility is different from having it as the reality,” Tony says. “It’s one thing to think that maybe Bucky could hate him for it, but it’s another to have him actually hate him. Especially when he thinks that’s not the most likely outcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, in all fairness, I would agree with him that it isn’t. Bucky’s not a very vindictive kind of person. I mean, you literally gave him the world’s worst nickname when you were four, and he never held a grudge about it.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “Yeah, alright, but there’s still the other scenario.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper puts her fork back down, the metal clanging against the glass of the pie pan. “Oh, please do tell what other possibility your mind has dreamed up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First of all, the attitude is truly not required,” Tony says, holding up a finger. “I just think there’s a decent chance that Bucky never even finds out, because Steve realizes that I’m not worth it before it even gets that far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper’s eyebrows knit together. “You’re not worth what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The whole losing his best friend thing,” Tony says, waving his hands as if to encompass everything he’s thinking. “People have always liked Bucky more than me, and honestly, that’s fine. I’m used to it. He’s nicer and more outgoing and just generally a better person. The chances of Steve actually picking me in this scenario feel pretty low.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper sighs and starts massaging her temples. “There’s so much to unpack there that I honestly don’t know where to start.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Before you start, let me just say that I don’t need you to say that it isn’t true that people like Bucky more than me. It is true, and I don’t care. It doesn’t bother me,” Tony says, and it’s true. He came to terms with it a long time ago. Bucky got the charm and charisma that naturally attracts people to him, and Tony got the analytical mind and quick-witted intellect. Their skill sets are different, and Tony doesn’t see it as a bad thing. It’s just how it is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, fine. I don’t think it’s true, but fine,” Pepper says. “But even if it was true, it doesn’t mean he’s going to dump you. He clearly likes you enough to start something, and it’s already been a month. Why would he suddenly realize that you aren’t worth being with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony throws his hands into the air. “I don’t know, Pep. I just think it’s a possibility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper stands from the floor and sits back down next to him. Wrapping her arm around his shoulders, she says, “Look, I don’t know Steve at all, but I sincerely doubt that he would date you for this long without thinking the outcomes through. Your judgment may be questionable at times, but Bucky’s isn’t, so he’s probably a decent guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs and elbows her in the ribs, “Don’t mock my judgment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think Ryan Gosling is creepy looking. How can I not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is!” Tony exclaims. “Have you honestly looked at a picture of him? Like really looked?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you had your eyesight checked lately?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the start of a heated debate over the attractiveness of just about every male celebrity in existence and lasts until the time Pepper’s mom is calling her to tell her to come back home an hour later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think she’s going to drive me crazy before Monday,” Pepper says while Tony is walking her to the door. “I see her every other weekend, and she’s acting like it’s been years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles, “Tell her I said hi, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should come over tomorrow. She asks about you a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hugs her goodbye, then goes back into his room to grab the now empty pie pan and forks. He takes them into the kitchen, and he’s in the middle of drying his hands after washing the pan when Bucky walks in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Pepper leave?” Bucky asks, opening the fridge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A couple minutes ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling out a plate of leftover turkey, Bucky asks, “Want any?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, no. I just ate like half a pie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The pecan?” Tony nods, and Bucky groans. “No, don’t tell me it’s all gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “Sorry, man. Should’ve been faster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky continues to grumble about it while putting a plate of leftovers in the microwave. Tony fills a glass with water and sits on the counter to drink it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you like Steve right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony chokes on the water, coughing violently enough that Bucky comes over to slap his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, you could have just said no,” Bucky jokes once Tony has recovered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s, uh - why are you asking me this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The microwave beeps, and Bucky retrieves his food from it. He sets the plate on the kitchen island, leaning against it while he eats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m thinking about setting him up with someone, and I wanted your opinion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony would have choked again if he still had the glass. “Why are you setting him up? What, uh, what makes you think he wants that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky shrugs, “He hasn’t gone out with anyone for more than a couple of dates since I met him, and the only people he hangs out with besides me and you are on the baseball team with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Natasha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky rolls his eyes. “Alright, me, you, Nat, and the baseball team. I think he should get out there more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you thinking about setting him up with?” Tony asks tentatively. He’s trying to seem casual, but his heart is beating too fast and his palms are getting sweaty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. That’s why I want your help. You know him pretty well now, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know about well. I mean, we’ve spent some time together, but that’s just studying. Nothing but studying. I barely know him at all, really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The overcorrection is so bad that Bucky gives him a strange look for it, but he doesn’t say anything about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem pretty close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sort of, I guess,” Tony says. His only way out now is to pretend he’s actually interested in helping, because saying no would be suspicious. “What’s his type?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky swallows a bite of turkey, then says, “Tall, usually. Blonde. Mostly omega women in the past, but I don’t think that’s an exclusive thing. I think he’s gone for a few art majors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony tries not to overanalyze that, keeping himself from wincing every time he fails to check one of Steve’s boxes. He’s zero for four, and he can’t help but feel a little insecure about that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t really know anyone like that. Sorry. I’ll, uh, keep an eye out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony jumps off the counter, prepared to escape to his room. Before he can go, Bucky asks, “You think it’s a good idea, though, right? To set him up with someone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns back around, forcing himself to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Um, sure. Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nods slowly, “Alright. Thanks, Tones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony plasters on a fake smile. “Yeah, of course.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm absolutely loving all the theories that popped up in the comments on that last chapter :) thank you all for being so interested in this one!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This, Steve thinks, is one of the best ideas he’s had in a long time. Tony looks adorable wandering through the rows of Christmas trees, his head covered in a knitted hat with a puffed ball on top. His mittened hand is clutching a cup of hot chocolate to his chest, and the other holds on to Steve’s, pulling him along in his eagerness. There’s a light dusting of snow on the ground, and a few flakes fall from the branches of the trees to dot them both in white. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He brought up the idea of going to a Christmas tree farm last week, during one of their study-sessions-turned-dates after they returned from Thanksgiving break, and Tony lit up immediately. They planned it for a Friday when Bucky would be in class, using their own classes and Steve’s work schedule as convenient excuses for why they couldn’t pick another day to go. Bucky seemed okay with it, though, and told them to bring back a good one. He went with Natasha last year to one of these, but Tony’s never had the chance. The drive was a little long to get here, but it was worth it for the way Tony’s excitement grew with each passing minute until he was practically bouncing in his seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want the tallest one they have,” Tony says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our ceiling is only eight feet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pauses. “Then I want the widest one they have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “Yeah, okay. Whichever one you want, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really do this every year?” Tony asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not every year,” Steve says as they round a corner to go down another row. “When I was a kid, my grandma would always take me to get the one for her house, but the one at mine was always artificial. I stopped going after she died. This is the first time I’ve done it since then, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, “Ours was always fake, too. And really, really tall. Like we needed a ladder to reach the top tall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You decorated it yourselves?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course. We always did it together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh, I thought rich people hired other people to do that kind of stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A lot of them, sure,” Tony shrugs. “But neither of my parents started out rich. My dad grew up on the lower end and started the company himself, and my mom was middle class before she met him, so we don’t really do a lot of those ‘rich people’ things. I think my Christmases were more similar to yours than you’re thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you didn’t grow up like a Gossip Girl character?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “Oh, God, no. And I’m not even going to ask why you know anything about that show.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Natasha was watching it the other day,” Steve says, smiling. “I had no clue what was happening for any of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat’s taste is questionable as hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hums in agreement, and he drops Tony’s hand to snake his arm around his waist and pull him in close. He stops walking a bit abruptly, and Tony gives him a questioning look before Steve drags him in for a kiss. Tony’s lips taste like hot chocolate and marshmallows with a hint of the peppermint from the candy cane he had in the car on the way here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they part, Tony looks a bit dazed, and Steve can’t help but pull him in one more time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that for?” Tony asks, his free hand gripping the collar of Steve’s jacket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, “Just felt like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grins, and his hand moves from Steve’s jacket to the back of his neck to pull him back in. They don’t do this on either of their campuses, too afraid to be seen by someone. If one of the other baseball players saw them, Bucky would know a minute later, and Steve would be dead another minute after that. But this far out of the city, he can stop in the middle of the snowy path and kiss Tony, for no other reason than just because he can. He can hold his boyfriend’s hand and kiss the rosy red of his cold cheeks, all without worrying about who might see it and tell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They keep walking through the rows, slowing occasionally so Tony can inspect a tree. Each time he shakes his head, rejecting it over some criteria that Steve isn’t privy to, and they move on. Steve is ready to cave and ask what exactly it is he’s looking for just as Tony finally announces, “This is the one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looks at the tree, and for the life of him he can’t figure out how it’s any different from the last three Tony rejected. It’s about the same height as those, the same width. There’s nothing distinct about it at all, but he looks back at Tony, whose smile is so wide that it looks like it hurts, and he agrees that this is the one for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Steve says. “Can you wait here, and I’ll go find someone to cut it for us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods and moves to stand in front of the tree like he’s guarding it, and Steve tries not to laugh as he walks down to the end of the row. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They go through the process of getting it cut and put into the protective sleeve, and Tony watches the whole thing very intently while Steve heads inside to pay for it. He comes back outside to help get it on the roof of his car, and Tony is still smiling by the time they’re getting in the car to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve puts his hand on Tony’s knee as they get on the road to go back to Boston, and Tony slips his hand into his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for this,” Tony says, voice quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to thank me, doll. I wanted to do it with you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony leans over the center console, pressing his lips to Steve’s shoulder. He can’t feel it through the layers of clothing, but the gesture is sweet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should have enough time to decorate it before Bucky gets back, unless you want to wait for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighs, “We probably should, right? I mean, we already did this without him, and it is kind of his apartment, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s true. So I’ll be the third wheel on your Christmas traditions, then,” Steve jokes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we don’t really have very many traditions like that. At home, Bucky and I are in charge of ornaments, our dad does the lights, and our mom fixes them when he does it wrong. But I don’t think that really applies when it’s just the three of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you do lights wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d be surprised, but he manages every year. It’s not a Stark family Christmas if my dad doesn’t tell my mom that he’s ‘an engineer, not an artist, darling,’” Tony says, making his voice deeper to imitate his dad. “They’re very predictable. And honestly kind of nauseating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “They sound cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are, but I would like to witness it less. I almost forgot how sickening it is until Thanksgiving. Which reminds me, by the way, that Bucky said he wants to set you up with someone when we were home for break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve frowns, “What? Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, but he wants my help. Also, do you have a thing for tall, artsy blondes that I should know about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never dated a tall blonde in my life,” Steve says, then he corrects, “Well, there was one date with a girl in my photography class last year, but otherwise, definitely not a thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky says it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky is wrong,” Steve says. He squeezes Tony’s hand a little tighter, rubbing circles into the back of it with his thumb. “The only thing I’ve got is for one tiny brunet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not tiny,” Tony protests indignantly. “Take that back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a bad thing, baby,” Steve grins. “I like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pulls his hand from Steve’s, crossing his arms over his chest. Steve tries to get it back, but Tony shakes his head, “Nope. Take it back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take it back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s not a bad thing. You’re cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cute, yes. Tiny, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “Okay, fine, I take it back. Just give me your hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony uncrosses his arms and puts his hand back into Steve’s. “Now, that you’re done insulting me -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not an insult.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- we can get back to the actual problem, which is that Bucky asked me if I like you, and I choked on my water and almost died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s how he asked me to help him, because I guess if I liked you as a friend, I would help or whatever. I said yes to helping, by the way, because I kind of had to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sighs, “So who is he setting me up with so I can say no?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think he has anyone yet. But what are you even going to tell him when he asks why you won’t do it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, “I’ll just tell him I’m too busy to date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what if he can see that that’s an obvious lie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looks over at him - the longest possible glance that he can safely spare while they drive down the highway. His lip is between his teeth, and Steve can tell that he’s anxious about this set up situation, though he doesn’t exactly know why. It wouldn’t be the first time that one of his friends thought that he should be dating more, and until people know about him and Tony, it won’t be the last. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you have nothing to worry about, right? There’s absolutely no way that I would go on a date with someone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Tony says quickly. “I just - it was a weird conversation. It feels like I’m really lying to him now, and before it was just sort of a lie. Lie adjacent, because it was by omission. But now I’m actually lying to his face about things. Like I told him that I don’t know you all that well and that we only ever study together, and neither of those things are true, and I just feel…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony breaks off, and Steve fills in the word for him, “Guilty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Tony sighs, deflating into his seat. “I’m not used to lying to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to tell him?” Steve asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I - I’m not ready for that, but I don’t like lying, either. So the whole thing just sucks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s own anxiety is starting to rise now, because if option a is bad and so is option b, then that leaves option c, which seems to be calling the whole thing off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony must see the look on his face, because he says, “Whatever you’re thinking, no. And I think I know what you’re thinking, because I already had the same thought, and Pepper told me it was dumb, so now I’m telling you it’s dumb.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told Pepper you thought I would break up with you before we could tell Bucky?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony looks down at their joined hands, avoiding Steve’s eyes. “I had the thought that maybe you might realize that I wasn’t worth all of this, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony, no matter what happens, I don’t regret this,” Steve says. He wishes he wasn’t driving right now so he could take both of his hands and really look at him, to make him feel how much he cares. For now, all he can do is hope Tony hears how much he means what he’s saying. “I know it’s hard to keep it a secret from him, and I feel guilty about it, too, but it’s worth it to get to be with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, and he lifts his head to look at Steve. “It’s worth it for me, too, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So we’re okay?” Steve asks tentatively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony leans over and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, twining their fingers tightly together. “We’re okay. Just as long as you reject whatever hot blonde girl Bucky sends your way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a problem, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only tiny brunets for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “Any of them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you can find another one as good as me, sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve lifts their hands, pressing a kiss to Tony’s. “Absolutely impossible, sweetheart. Guess I’m stuck with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucky you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony tilts his head up to smile at him, and Steve returns it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucky me indeed.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In retrospect, Tony should have seen it coming the second Bucky said Carol from his modern history class was joining them at the bar for dinner, but in all fairness, it was a big group that was going, and Tony’s never met her before. But when she walks in being all tall, blonde, and beautiful and Bucky subtly makes sure she sits next to Steve, Tony realizes that the set up is happening right before his eyes. Steve must see it, too, because he looks up and locks eyes with Tony as she’s sitting down. They haven’t quite been together long enough to be able to have a completely silent conversation just yet, but Tony thinks they’re on the same page about it. Steve can’t ignore her completely, but he doesn’t have to actually flirt with her, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s why he’s really, really trying not to be jealous while Steve casually chats with her about innocuous subjects, and he isn’t outright glaring daggers at her every time he happens to catch her eye. Instead, he makes idle conversation with Sam, who’s sitting to his right, and Clint, who’s on the other side of Sam. He doesn’t know either of them very well. Sam is on the baseball team, and Tony thinks he might be the third baseman. Clint is Natasha’s friend, and that’s all the information he really has, other than a few stories he’s heard from Nat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s ignoring Bucky for now, because he only has so much control over his spitefulness and all of it is currently focused on suppressing the urge to drag his boyfriend out of here to spend the rest of the night staking his claim. Although, Tony thinks, that could be really fun in its own way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s especially unfair that Steve looks so good tonight, and Tony doesn’t even get to appreciate it properly. His navy blue shirt is tight, accentuating every muscle of his chest and arms while complementing his eyes. He’s wearing the jeans that Tony once told him made his ass look like it was sculpted by the gods, which made Steve’s face turn bright red at the time. It even looks like he tried to style his hair instead of letting it naturally fall like usual. Tony wants nothing more than to be able to get his hands on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to the bathroom,” Tony says while they’re waiting for their food, a little too loudly so Steve will hopefully take the hint. “Be right back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony washes his hands at the sink for something to do while he’s waiting for Steve, and he’s drying them when he finally shows up.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was supposed to follow you in here, right?” Steve asks, putting his hands on Tony’s hips as he walks up behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles and turns in his arms, “Yes, you were. How’s your date going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s great. I think she might be the one, actually. I’ll send you an invite to the wedding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs and pulls Steve down to kiss him, temporarily uncaring of the possibility that someone could walk in and catch them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is it really, though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, “She’s nice, I guess. I don’t mind talking to her, but even if you and I weren’t together, I don’t think it would be anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How reassuring,” Tony remarks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got nothing to worry about, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I trust you,” Tony smiles. “But I think I might stab Bucky in the thigh with my fork.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Steve laughs. He bends down to kiss Tony again, then pulls back so they aren’t touching at all anymore. “You should get back out there before you’re gone for too long. Don’t need to make anyone suspicious. I already got some weird looks when I got up after you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods and walks toward the door, “Think you can find a way to drive me home tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try my best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He exits the bathroom and returns to the table, where Sam and Clint seem to be in a heated debate about something and Carol is now talking to Natasha in Steve’s absence. It leaves him with just Bucky, who leans over to whisper, “So what do you think about Steve and Carol?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony takes a long drink from his water to buy time before he has to answer. “I don’t think I see it,” he shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean? Steve seems to like her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pinches his leg hard beneath the table to prevent himself from visibly gritting his teeth. “As a friend, maybe. But I don’t know about anything else. They don’t seem all that compatible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky snorts, “You haven’t even talked to her. How do you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s how I see it, that’s all. Maybe I’m wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve comes back right as the food is being dropped off at the table, and Tony uses the distraction of both of these things to his advantage to get out of this conversation. He shoves a too big bite of his cheeseburger in his mouth, then rejoins the conversation with Sam and Clint. He doesn’t quite follow it, because it seems to be about some movie he’s never seen, but he pretends to be interested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He keeps it up all the way through dinner, staying in the conversation through its topic changes and turns, even though he definitely has nothing to contribute when it switches over to the current Boston Bruins season. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of the night, after the bills have been sorted out and people are starting to leave the group, Bucky asks, “Do you need a ride back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve interjects at the perfect time, “Hey, Tony, do you still have my sweatshirt from the other week?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, yeah. I do. I can get it for you if you don’t mind driving me back to my dorm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods, “Sure. I can take you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could just get it for you,” Bucky frowns. “We live together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony freezes, but thankfully Steve chooses this time to suddenly be a decent liar. “No, that’s fine. You’re already taking Nat and Carol back, right? I can take Tony. No sense having everyone go in the opposite direction instead of just me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, if you’re sure,” Bucky says, sounding hesitant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s sure,” Tony says quickly, getting up from the table and already backing up towards the door. Steve, still polite even when he’s lying, makes sure to say goodbye to everyone before he stands and follows Tony out of the bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony manages to keep his hands to himself until they’re in the darkness of Steve’s car, but it’s as far as his self-control can stretch. He pulls Steve in by the collar of his jacket, and the kiss is messy and desperate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t seem too suspicious, right?” Steve asks when they break apart, breathing hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we’re fine. We should maybe get out of this parking lot before I do something more than kiss you, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gets the car on the road, then reaches for Tony’s hand, and Tony likes the way that it’s become an automatic thing for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what are you going to tell him when he asks about Carol?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, “I guess I’ll have to pretend I didn’t know it was a set up, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but when he says that it was?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same thing I told you before. I’m not interested in dating anyone right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what if -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony,” Steve cuts him off, sounding amused. “Didn’t we already have this conversation three days ago? I’m not interested, it doesn’t matter if he pushes it, I’m only dating you. Tiny brunets only, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles, “I think Clint technically qualifies for that. He’s kind of short.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you call his hair brown? I think it’s more blond.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you go out with Clint anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think so. I’ve heard too many things from Natasha to know that would be a disaster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard him say that the five second rule is probably too short. He believes in the ten second rule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grimaces, “Please tell me you’re lying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He dropped a fry on the floor of the bar, and I witnessed it myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The bar floor? That’s easily the grossest possible place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs at the absolute horror on Steve’s face. “So it’s a solid no on dating Clint, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very solid. You’re still my only tiny brunet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I’m not sure how you made me like being called tiny, but I think I’m okay with it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles, “Maybe you just accepted that it’s a fact.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a small student parking lot by the dorm that Steve pulls into, and Tony crosses over the center console to sit on Steve’s lap the second the car is parked and the ignition is turned off. Steve holds onto his hips, and Tony wraps his arms around Steve’s neck as he straddles his thighs. He has to duck down to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling, which puts him even closer to Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Steve says, smiling softly. His thumbs rub circles into Tony’s hips through his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony leans down and kisses Steve’s jaw, prompting Steve to tilt his head to the side for him. He trails his mouth down Steve’s neck, kissing every inch along the way until he reaches the bonding gland just before his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s hands clench and unclench on Tony’s hips as he sucks on the sensitive area. He hears every hitch in Steve’s breathing, every sound he tries to hold back, but can’t. Steve’s hips buck up, meeting Tony’s and making him gasp. It’s a dangerous game, because they can’t actually go that far. In his attempts to tease Steve, he’ll end up just as desperate and needy, and no one really wins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he likes the look on Steve’s face when he bites down lightly, just a hint of teeth. He likes the whiny sound it drags out of him, and the way Steve’s eyes flutter shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve lets him do it for as long as he wants to, even though it must be killing him to not be returning the favor. He waits until Tony pulls back from his neck to begin his own pleasurable assault. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re both careful not to leave any visible marks, and Tony knows that Steve will drive back with the windows rolled down to lose his scent to the icy wind. But each time they seem to push the limits a little further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pulls down the collar of his shirt and sucks on a spot on his chest, hard enough to be sure to leave a bruise. Tony threads his fingers through Steve’s hair, tugging on it in the way he knows Steve likes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve runs his tongue over the mark when he’s done, soothing the heated skin, and Tony uses his grip on his hair to pull him back up to his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The windows are fogged over by the time they part, sheltering them even further from the outside world. Tony holds Steve’s face in his hands and strokes his thumbs beneath his cheekbones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve watches him with overwhelming tenderness in his eyes, and his voice is a whisper when he says, “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony forgets how to breathe, and he goes stock-still. All of his thoughts come to a grinding halt, and he’s vaguely aware that his eyes are wide and his jaw has dropped open. His hands have fallen to hang oddly in the air between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It could be seconds or minutes later when Steve squirms uncomfortably beneath him, cheeks red and gaze averted. “You, um, you don’t have to say it back. I shouldn’t have said it, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s brain comes back to him after that. “Shouldn’t have said it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve bites his lips, eyes darting around to look everywhere but at Tony’s face. “We can just pretend that I didn’t, if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t - no,” Tony says. “I don’t want that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your face is kind of saying otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony cups Steve’s jaw with his hand, tilting his head up to look at him. Steve stubbornly stares down at Tony’s chin instead of meeting his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at me.” It takes a few seconds, but Steve finally does. “I love you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?” Steve’s voice is so quiet that Tony barely hears it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, leaning in until his lips are brushing against Steve’s. “I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve closes the small bit of distance between them, his hand on the back of Tony’s neck to keep them close as he kisses him. Tony smiles into it, feeling so full of emotion that his chest could burst from it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they part, he says it again, “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grins, “I love you, too.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s pure torture, Steve has decided, to be sitting next to Tony on his living room couch, being able to smell the apricots and vanilla coming from him from just inches away, but having to hold back. Bucky is sitting on the other side of Tony, and the three of them are in the middle of a Mario Kart battle that Steve has no vested interest in. He thought about lying about being busy, just to be able to leave the room, but that might be even more torturous. To have Tony in the same area, to be able to hear his voice and laugh, but be nowhere near him. It’s suffering one way or the other, but at least this way gets him physically closer to his boyfriend and probably looks less suspicious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony isn’t helping matters, either, because he seems dead set on driving Steve insane. He leans in a little closer than necessary, touches him casually on the shoulder as much as he can get away with. But that is technically Tony’s normal when it comes to interacting with friends, so he isn’t really pushing anything. Tony is a tactile person with little regard for personal space. It’s not really his fault that Steve can’t keep it together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Steve falls off of Rainbow Road for the tenth time and comes in last place, Bucky looks over at him and says, “Dude, you’re fucking terrible today. What’s with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So maybe not less suspicious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, just, uh - just a little distracted, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And because Bucky is apparently evil incarnate, he asks, “Did Carol text you back yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve notices the way Tony’s shoulders tense up just a little, and he hates that he doesn’t have a chance to explain himself. But Tony trusts him. He said so himself, and then a few hours later he used the word love for the first time. They have solid footing, but that doesn’t make this conversation any less annoying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, no, not yet,” Steve says, trying to sound nonchalant about it. The reality is that he never used the number that Bucky gave him the other night, but he told him that he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky reaches across the couch from behind to clap his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she will soon. She was definitely into you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony releases his lip from where it was firmly planted between his teeth and loudly asks, “Are we starting the next round or what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My turn to pick, right?” Steve quickly says. He scrolls through the options and randomly picks one of the first ones, halting the conversation as they go back to playing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony keeps the topic from ever going back to Steve’s set up by beginning a back and forth of trash talk with Bucky, and eventually Steve is able to relax enough to join in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony, you’re not nearly good enough at this game to be talking the kind of shit you are,” Bucky laughs. “You’re in fifth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because I suck doesn’t mean you don’t suck, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony scoffs, “By default because Steve also sucks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of their tournament, Tony checks his watch and stands up, “I’ve got to get going. Told someone I’d meet them at six, so I guess this makes me fashionably late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need a ride?” Bucky asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m good,” Tony replies, heading towards the door as he slings his backpack over his shoulder. He opens the door and is slowly closing it as he says, “I’m meeting Rhodey for dinner, so I’m not going far, and he said he could take me back after. See you guys later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky frowns at the closed door. “Who’s Rhodey?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he’s in Tony’s calculus class. They’re friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The frown deepens, coming with a furrowed brow, and is now directed at Steve. “Why do you know that and I don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, flicking absently at his controller to avoid Bucky’s eyes. “He’s mentioned him a couple of times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you know about him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks over at Bucky now, seeing his narrow eyes and clear suspicion, though he thinks it’s directed at Rhodey, and not at Steve himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “Relax, Buck. He’s nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why haven’t I heard about him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shakes his head and decides to appease him with some of the information he has, “He’s a beta who’s apparently focused on going into the Air Force after college. He is not corrupting anybody. They study together sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve has also met him and seen first hand that he’s a good friend to Tony, but he leaves that part out. Bucky grumbles something under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he gestures to the TV with his controller and asks, “Wanna play again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve does a lot better in the game without Tony next to him as a distraction. He wins the first couple of races, but accidentally drives right off the edge of the road in the third when Bucky suddenly says, “I think Tony’s hiding something from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve doesn’t answer for a long while, his mind too busy racing to come up with an appropriate response. When he does open his mouth, he has to clear his throat to allow any sound to actually come out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you say that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can see Bucky’s shrug from the corner of his eye. “I just think he is. He doesn’t tell me much anymore, and he’s been acting kind of weird. I mean, you’ve noticed it, too, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no, I can’t say that I have,” Steve says slowly. He tries to think of what someone who was genuinely just friends with their best friend’s little brother would say in this case, but he’s coming up short. “But you know him better than I do, I guess. Maybe he’s telling you the same amount, though, and you’re only noticing it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky shakes his head, and on the screen, he wins the third race. He starts up another as he says, “No, he’s always told me things. I know that his first kiss was Pepper in the sixth grade, even though they both swore to never talk about it again. I know about when he lost his virginity, because he literally told me the day after it happened. I even know about his weird crush on Captain America, but I really think he should have kept that one to himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From those old comics?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s weird, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, “I’ve heard weirder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got a really fucked up one, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Steve laughs. “No, I don’t. I just don’t think his is that bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a drawing, Steve. He has the hots for a drawing of a man on steroids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well when you put it like that it sounds weird. But it’s still not the worst one out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky sighs, and they don’t talk for the rest of the tournament, which Steve wins fairly easily. After, they agree to order dinner, and Steve excuses himself under the guise of needing to use the bathroom while Bucky takes care of placing the order. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls out his phone the second the bathroom door is shut, leaning against the counter while he composes a text to Tony. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bucky thinks you’re hiding something from him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>yikes. what did you say?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>also don’t think we’re not talking about the carol thing cause we are</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>He said you’ve been acting weird and asked me if I noticed anything, so I said I hadn’t. I think he let it go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird how?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>and don’t avoid the carol thing</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not telling him things. And I’m not avoiding the Carol thing. He gave me her number and I threw it away, but I told him that I texted her. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t be. I know it sounded bad. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>i meant it when i said i trust you it’s just… idk</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I know, baby. I would have had the same reaction if it was you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I now know about your crush on Captain America by the way.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god i never should have told him that. don’t judge me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>He agrees. Not judging you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>if it helps i like you more</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>It would be weird if you didn’t. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this point he’s been in the bathroom for an abnormally long time, so he sends one last before opening the door again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Steve</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have to go. Love you baby. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Tony</b>
  <span>: </span>
  <em>
    <span>love you too </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tucks his phone back into his pocket, then heads back out into the living room. Bucky has turned off the gaming console and switched the TV over to the Boston Bruins game. There are two beers on the coffee table, and he reaches for the unopened one as he sits back down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They watch the game in relative silence until the food they ordered arrives, and Steve is part way through his dinner when Bucky says, “You think he’s seeing someone without telling me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve almost chokes on his burrito. “I doubt it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could be that Rhodey guy,” Bucky carries on, ignoring Steve’s weak protest. “He said they’re getting dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Friends eat dinner together. We’re literally doing it right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky waves off that comment. “We’re roommates. Not the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’s him,” Steve says without thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think it’s him? So you think there is someone, though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I -” Steve sputters. “I don’t think he’s dating anyone, but even if he was it’s definitely not Rhodey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky pauses for a while as he continues to eat his food. “He talked to Sam a lot the other night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky shrugs, “They seemed to be getting along pretty well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing Steve needs is to be jealous of anyone, so he tries to nip that suggestion in the bud right away. “They barely know each other. I think that was the first conversation they’ve even had.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’re right,” Bucky says, taking a long drink from his bottle of beer. “Besides, I don’t think he’d hide that from me. Wouldn’t make him a very good friend if he did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s stomach plummets. “No, I guess not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’d have to kill him for touching my little brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods slowly, eyes directed at the TV screen, but not actually seeing anything. The guilt is so overwhelming it feels like he can’t breathe. He barely manages to say, “Well, he hasn’t, so.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s probably nothing, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably nothing,” Steve agrees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky stands from the couch, and he lifts his empty beer bottle. “I’m getting another. You need one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shakes his head, and Bucky walks out of the room, leaving him alone to wallow in his guilt. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony can tell that Steve is in a downcast mood the second he opens the door to the apartment. His scent has a sour note to it that usually isn’t there, tainting the apples and honey and making Tony’s nose scrunch up. His smile isn’t quite as wide either, though it’s still present, at least. But it doesn’t quite reach his eyes the way it normally does. Doesn’t light up his entire face in that way that makes his eyes look brighter. His kiss is briefer, too, as if Tony needed yet another reason to be worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders as the door shuts behind them. Steve’s hands automatically raise to grab his hips, which Tony is choosing to take as a good sign that maybe the problem isn’t him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve bites his lip, and even his nod seems like a lie. “Yeah, I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby,” Tony says in a soft tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pulls him in a little closer, forehead resting against Tony’s and his eyes closing. He breathes in deep, probably seeking out the comfort of Tony’s scent, and that’s a good sign, too. That Tony’s scent is still comforting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a long exhale, he opens his eyes and says, “I don’t really want to talk about it. We’d just be talking in circles, because it’s nothing new. Just - this sucks right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s heart hurts a little at that. He strokes his hand through the short hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, trying to provide some sort of solace. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sighs, “Not your fault. I wanted this, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The past tense isn’t exactly reassuring, and Tony can’t stop himself from repeating the word. “Wanted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve thankfully catches on immediately to what he’s asking, and he’s quick to put Tony’s mind at ease. “Want. Still want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reaches one hand up, holding Tony’s cheek, and Tony turns to kiss his palm. “Want to not talk about it over on the couch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods, and Tony takes a step back to grab Steve’s hand. He pulls him over to the couch, then gently shoves on his shoulders until he’s laying down across the length of it. Tony shrugs off his puffy coat, throws it over the arm of the couch that’s by Steve’s feet, and climbs on top of him. He shifts around until he’s in a comfortable position for both of them and breathes out a heavy sigh of relief when he feels Steve’s arms wrap tightly around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cheek is resting against Steve’s chest, his heartbeat thrumming right beneath his ear. He snakes his hands under Steve’s sides, slipping them beneath his sweatshirt to seek out his warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs quietly, “I am once again not your personal space heater.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boyfriend privileges.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hums as he cards his hand slowly through Tony’s hair. His fingers snag on a few of the more unruly curls, and he untangles each one so gently that Tony can hardly feel it at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice is low when he asks, “Did you want to watch something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shakes his head, “Not really. Is that okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine by me,” Steve murmurs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long do we have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe an hour. Could be more. I told him to let me know if he ended up deciding to stay at Natasha’s tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I should be ready to launch myself across the room if the door opens, then?” Tony half-jokes. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had to do something like that. Bucky keeps coming home earlier than expected or deciding to come back between classes when he normally doesn’t. It used to be fairly predictable when they would have long gaps available to be alone, but now they never really know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably still look weird with the TV off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll pretend we were meditating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “Great thinking. It’s our new hobby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fully prepared to talk about all the health benefits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Real ones?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Made up completely on the spot, but they’ll sound really good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony tilts his chin up, nuzzling against Steve’s throat. The sourness is completely gone from his scent now, and he’s left only with the crisp sweetness that he’s used to. Tony presses a light kiss to Steve’s bonding gland and is rewarded with another wave of happy pheromones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He thought you might have a secret boyfriend,” Steve says out of the blue, and Tony frowns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did he get that idea from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, but I did my best to squash it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He have any thoughts on who it might be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam and Rhodey are apparently contenders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “I’ve only talked to Sam once, and Rhodey has a girlfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I said about Sam, and I told him Rhodey was just a friend,” Steve says. The hand that isn’t in Tony’s hair starts to stroke up and down his back, fingertips lightly brushing him through his clothes. “He let it go, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gets the feeling that there’s something more that happened after the text exchange from the night before, something that Steve is leaving out, because there isn’t a reason for him to still feel upset about the conversation a day later otherwise. But Tony doesn’t press the issue. He instead slides his hands a little higher up Steve’s back, holding him a little tighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s quiet for a few long minutes before Steve says, “Maybe we should try to distance ourselves a little more. Hang out with Bucky together less.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to see you less, though. We barely get enough time as it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we have to tell him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s stomach turns, and he buries his face in Steve’s neck in an attempt to quell the tears that have suddenly turned his vision blurry. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s terrified, that no matter how many times Steve reassures him that they’ll be fine regardless of how Bucky reacts to it, he still can’t quite see how that can be true. There are too many possible bad outcomes, but only one possible good. He’s done the math, and the odds aren’t in his favor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve seems to get it anyway. “It’s not going to be that bad, I promise. You don’t even have to be the one to tell him, okay? I can do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we just - can we wait a little longer?” Tony asks, even though he knows it’s a horribly selfish request. Not telling him is starting to kill Steve, but telling him will probably kill Tony. “Not much, I swear. Just - after Christmas break? We can tell him together when we come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can feel Steve swallow, and the shift of his head as he nods. “Yeah, baby. We can wait a little longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a couple more weeks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve kisses the top of his head. “I can still tell him alone if you want. If he’s going to be mad, I’d rather him take it out on me than on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shakes his head, “It’s not your fault. You shouldn’t have to take all the blame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t call it blame. I don't know what it is, but it’s not blame, because there’s nothing actually wrong with this. You chose me, and I chose you. If he wants to be mad about us hiding it, I understand that, but there’s nothing wrong with the fact that I love you. I won’t feel guilty about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shifts, propping himself up on his elbows to be able to see Steve’s face. He folds his hands over Steve’s chest and rests his chin on them. His entire body weight is on Steve, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve traces his bottom lip with his thumb, eyes tracking the movement, and Tony truly relaxes for the first time since he got here. Some of the weight has lifted from his shoulders, taking the doubt with it. It isn’t gone completely, and it won’t be until he can actually see the outcome for himself, but he’s lighter than he was before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” Tony says softly so he can watch the way Steve smiles at him for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thumb moves from his lip down to his chin, sliding up his jaw slowly. For all of the intimate things they’ve done together, he thinks this might be the most intimate yet somehow. There’s something different about it compared to the sex and secret heated exchanges. He feels raw and split open in front of Steve, all of his thoughts and emotions on display for him to see. There should be something scary about it, something terrifying about having someone know him like this, but there isn’t. Instead, there’s safety in the way that Steve is looking at him and in the way he touches him. An undeniable comfort in the knowledge that he is both known and loved by the person in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was your dinner with Rhodey?” Steve asks, voice still quiet even though the topic no longer demands it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony lays his head back down and answers, “It was good. His opinions on sci-fi movies are much better than yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “They’re not good, and you can’t convince me otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never claimed they were good. I claimed they were interesting, and the science is always fun to pick apart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we having the movies are supposed to be enjoyable debate again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you know you’ll lose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pokes Steve in the ribs, making him laugh again. “How was work this morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, really slow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hums, “You should have texted me. I would’ve visited you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but then I would get fired for making out with you in the back room,” Steve sighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grins, and Steve can probably feel it from where it’s pressed against his skin. “You were supposed to be the one with self-control, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the votes were tied on that one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve kisses his forehead, his hand still stroking through his hair, and they fall silent for a long while. Tony’s eyes slowly drift shut, and every breath is long and deep to make Steve’s scent consume his senses entirely. He’s never quite known peace like this before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you falling asleep on me?” Steve asks in a murmur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Tony says, even though he feels pretty close to it. “I’m meditating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Steve was going to reply, it’s cut off by the vibration of his phone. Tony can feel it from where it’s pressed against his thigh, and he rolls a bit to the side to let Steve grab it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve checks his phone, and suddenly Tony is being hoisted into the air. The sound he makes is a high-pitched squeak, and he scrambles to wrap his limbs around Steve’s body while Steve walks them down the hall toward his bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Tony laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grins as he lays Tony on the bed and climbs on top of him, “Bucky’s staying at Nat’s tonight.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The week before finals start, Steve feels close to tossing his physics textbook out the window in frustration. But he paid a hefty sum for that stupid book, so instead, he flings himself back against the pillows on his bed and covers his face with the pages. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony flicks his sock-covered foot with his finger. “You’re being very dramatic today, and that’s supposed to be my role. I claimed it months ago, babe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My life is falling apart,” Steve groans. “I’m going to fail physics, and then I’m going to drop out of college in shame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a high B right now, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The final is worth twenty five percent of my grade,” Steve laments, lifting the corner of the book so Tony can see his face. He isn’t above using his sadness to get sympathy cuddles from his boyfriend. Except his boyfriend isn’t even looking at the pout on his face right now, which is all kinds of unfair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugs, eyes locked on his own textbook, “So you need to get at least a B- on the final to keep it. That shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve been averaging a B+ on tests.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do that if my brain turns into mush before then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony looks up at him now, an amused smile on his face. “I think your brain will be just fine, darling.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks back down just as quickly, tapping his pen against his bottom lip, and Steve huffs, “Baby, I am clearly fishing for attention right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God,” Tony laughs. “Is this what I sound like all the time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pouts even more at being made fun of, but Tony puts down his pen and pushes his textbook to the side. He crawls up from the bottom of the bed and drops himself down on top of Steve with no preamble. Steve circles his arms around him and twines their legs together, effectively trapping Tony there. Burying his face in the side of Tony’s neck, he breathes in deep and exhales in a content sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So needy,” Tony teases. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m redeeming all of my boyfriend privileges.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hums, and Steve can feel the vibration of it from Tony’s throat. Blunt fingernails drag across his scalp, and he arches up into the touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have an idea to make studying a little more fun if you’re up for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?” Steve asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve still got those physics flashcards, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods, “Yeah, but I haven’t really looked at them much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect. I’ve got some for my history class that I still need to memorize, so I’m proposing a game,” Tony says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve lifts his head, intrigued. “What kind of game?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grins mischievously, “Strip flashcards. I’ll give you mine, you’ll give me yours, and one item of each other’s clothing comes off for each correct answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens when we run out of clothing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugs, “Given our track record I’m going to assume sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs and loosens his hold on Tony so they can both sit up. Reaching for his backpack, he searches for the stack of rubber band bound flashcards as he says, “Yeah, that’s a fair assumption. But what happens when I’m naked because you probably know all the answers already, and you’re still fully dressed because I know nothing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pauses in the search of his own set of flashcards. “I guess you’ll just be sad because you could be having sex if you knew the answers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve finds the flashcards and sets them in front of Tony, who is still looking for his own. Given the state of his backpack, it might take a while. Steve adjusts his position on the bed, sitting back against the headboard with his legs folded, and mentally counts his layers of clothing compared to Tony’s own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do socks come off as one or two?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony finally finds the flashcards, which are all bent at the edges, and tosses them to Steve. “Probably two, otherwise we won’t get as much done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony answers that by reading the question from the top of the stack, “Fill in the blank. If the mass of a simple pendulum is quadrupled, then its period…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit,” Steve mutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You get a formula sheet on the exam, right?” Tony asks, and Steve nods. “This is my not-so-subtle hint to reference it on this one.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve reaches for the formula sheet and scans through it. He thinks he has the answer, but he reads the formula for the period of a simple pendulum a few more times before saying it just to make sure. He really needs Tony to lose some clothes before he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the same, right? The formula doesn’t have mass in it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiles as he pulls off one sock and drops it on the floor. He pokes Steve in the knee with his now bare toes. “My question, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve glances down at the first of Tony’s questions, which is two parts. “What was the period immediately following the Civil War called and in what year is this period considered to have ended?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Reconstruction Period ended in 1877.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sighs, and he doesn’t even need to flip the card to the back to know that it’s right. He pulls off his t-shirt, and it joins Tony’s sock on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you starting there? You’re wearing socks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a distraction tactic,” Steve reasons. “I’m hoping you’ll be too distracted by my shirtlessness to focus on the questions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “That’s ridiculous, but honestly it might work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony loses his other sock on the next question, then Steve pulls off his belt. The third round has them even still when they both get their questions wrong. Tony takes off his sweatshirt, leaving himself in a t-shirt, when Steve tosses out an absolute guess that ends up being correct. He loses the t-shirt on the next question, right after Steve loses a sock. His other sock goes after that.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you seriously counting your watch as clothes?” Tony complains when Steve sets it on his end table. “That was a hard one. I earned your pants coming off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is covering part of my skin, so it’s clothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that the definition of clothes? Because if it is, your belt doesn’t count, because it was covering nothing but the jeans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “Please don’t make me google the technical definition of clothing. You can get the pants on the next question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony, however, can’t let it go. He has what Steve recognizes as his thinking face, which means he’s about to be levelled with something no normal person would think of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that make a band-aid clothing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, God.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t it, though? It’s intentionally covering skin, so it’s clothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a bandaid on my arm from the flu shot I got this morning. I could take it off next.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Predictably, that causes Tony to abandon that particular line of reasoning. “Don’t you fucking dare. I am getting those pants off of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gets the next question wrong, but Tony does, too. The one after that causes Tony to lose his own watch with a very pointed look at Steve. They’re both left in just jeans and underwear, and it’s only a matter of time before those go, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This game is starting to make me feel like a really low-end stripper,” Steve jokes as he stands from the bed to take his pants off after Tony gets the next question right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s giving me all kinds of thoughts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not stripping for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you technically are right now, babe,” Tony smiles. “But I never said that in my thoughts you would be the one doing the stripping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve freezes with his jeans around his thighs and his mouth hanging open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I break you? You look broken,” Tony laughs. “I can share these thoughts with you if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve feels himself hardening in his boxers at just the notion that Tony is even considering stripping for him. The mental image is hard to shake once it’s formed. It’s stuck in his brain as he kicks his jeans to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember those blue panties from the other day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods as he gets back on the bed, and the imaginary vision in his head is replaced with the vividly real memory of undressing Tony and finding those under his clothes. They were silk and lace and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. They didn’t even make it all the way off, instead getting pushed to the side during their time together on Tony’s small dorm bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those were just the tip of the iceberg of the things I’ve bought recently,” Tony smirks, and his gaze is directed at Steve’s lap, where it’s impossible to hide the effect Tony’s words are having on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve groans, scrubbing his face with his hand, “This is cheating. How am I supposed to answer anything with that in my head?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You started it, baby. This is just payback.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Taking off my shirt is not on the same level as making me think about you stripping in lingerie and you know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugs, cocky smirk still in place, “I guess I’m better than you at being distracting. Up your game, Rogers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sinks down into the pillows, willing the picture to leave his mind and his hard on to go away. “Ask the next question, Stark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why does a coconut float in water?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of a question is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “I don’t know. You wrote them. It probably made sense at one point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did seem perfectly fine at two in the morning when he was working on them and collecting questions from different textbook chapters, but it definitely isn’t when he’s trying to get Tony’s pants off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m giving up on that one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony flips it over, “The gravitational force acting on the coconut is less than the buoyant force.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve reaches for one of Tony’s cards and asks the question. Tony takes all of three seconds to get it right, and just like that Steve loses his last article of clothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, that does look very distracting,” Tony teases as the boxers hit the floor. “All that from just the thought of me in some lingerie, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve flushes pink momentarily, but then he realizes that this is the perfect time to up his game, as Tony put it. He drops his knees from where they were bent in a vain attempt to cover himself, putting himself on full display. Swiping his thumb through the small amount of fluid gathered at the tip, he watches Tony’s face as he takes himself in hand and slowly starts to stroke up and down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s his turn to smirk now, and after a few moments he pointedly says, “You’re supposed to be asking me a question, sweetheart. Or are you too distracted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s eyes snap up to meet his, a defiance in them. “Not at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Steve says, maintaining his eye contact even as his hand continues to move on his cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grabs a card and reads off the question, “A baseball player hits a home run and runs around all four bases. What is his total displacement if the bases are ninety feet apart?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony doesn’t even wait for him to give the answer before he stands up from the bed and unbuttons his jeans, because he knows that Steve knows it. The jeans are on the floor already when Steve says, “Zero feet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the visible tightness of Tony’s underwear, Steve can tell he’s not the only one who’s ready for the game to be over. But he definitely isn’t done teasing, which is why when it’s his turn again, he purposely answers wrong. He does it again on the next one, and Tony levels him with a glare, “Funny how you knew about simple harmonic motion at the start of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, “Guess it slipped my mind. You know, being so distracted and all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony groans, and falls back against the bed, covering his eyes with his arm. From the scent that’s been slowly growing stronger, Steve knows that he must be soaked with slick by now. He grins as he asks Tony the next question, to which he very quickly replies, “I honestly could not give less of a fuck about the space race right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The correct answer is actually October 4th, 1957.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I regret this game.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m enjoying it a lot,” Steve laughs, but he decides to have mercy on him. He kneels on the bed and covers Tony’s body with his own, leaning down to kiss below his ear. “But if you tell me that I won, I’ll give you what you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s like he can see the war between Tony’s competitiveness and his desire to have Steve touching him. He ups the ante by kissing down his neck, ending at the base to graze his teeth against Tony’s bonding gland, which has swollen a bit with arousal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony whines, one hand fisting in Steve’s hair, pushing and pulling in equal measure like he can’t decide if he wants more or less. “This is definitely cheating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You already won the strip game, and we didn’t make any rules about this one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve slips his hand under the small of Tony’s back, slowly trailing it down to his ass. There’s a distinct damp spot on the backside of his underwear, and Steve wants nothing more than to peel the fabric away and taste him, but he refuses to give in before Tony does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He runs his finger over Tony’s entrance through his underwear and teases, “All of this just from looking at me, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s back arches up at the pressure of Steve’s finger, and he gives in rather easily, “Okay, okay, you win.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve doesn’t hesitate after that, almost ripping the fabric in his haste to get it out of the way. Neither of them are going to last very long, not with how long Steve drew out the teasing, but it doesn’t matter. He gets Tony off first, and he only lasts half a minute longer after that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flashcards are scattered around the floor by the time Steve is maneuvering them to their sides, his knot holding them together, but he has no intention of picking them up anytime soon. Instead, he holds Tony to his chest, closes his eyes, and lets all of the tension and stress leave his body for now. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And now for the moment you were waiting for :)</p><p>If you were really looking forward to heavy drama, this is probably going to disappoint you. Just a warning.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Christmas break gives Tony many more opportunities to miss Steve than Thanksgiving break did. Tony occupies as much time as he can with his family and with Pepper, but there’s still long gaps where all he can think about is Steve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They text as often as Tony can get away with without anyone asking him who he’s talking to. His mom has already caught him smiling at his phone screen once, but he managed to switch apps quickly enough that she thought he was laughing at a funny post. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At night, after everyone has already retired to their bedrooms, he calls Steve from the privacy of his bedroom. It’s late for Steve, still in eastern time, but he stays up every night to talk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, baby,” Steve says, sounding and looking sleepy when he answers the facetime call. It’s after one in the morning in Brooklyn, and Steve is laying on his side in bed with the blankets tucked up around his chin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony is sitting on his own bed, leaning against the headboard with his knees tucked to his chest. The lamp on his bedside table is illuminating his bedroom, while Steve is in the dark. He smiles at Steve’s groggy, slow blinks. “Hi. How was your day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. I told my mom about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods, “She said there had to be someone because I never text that much. Didn’t really see a point in lying to her about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did she say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Standard mom things,” Steve says. “She’s happy that I’m happy, and she wants to meet you. I told her maybe over the summer. I mean, I know we haven’t talked about it and it’s still months away, but I was hoping that you could visit me, and, um, I could visit you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony can see that Steve is nervous, and he can’t help but laugh a little because he has no reason to be. “Relax, babe. I would love to meet your mom, and I’m sure my parents will want to meet you, too, once they know that you exist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. That’s - that’s good,” Steve smiles. “What were you up to today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shifts on the bed, stretching his legs out and propping himself up with one arm behind his head. “I went over to Pepper’s this morning, and then I worked on some stuff in the lab with my dad. I think we’re actually making some progress on that clean energy thing I was telling you about a couple of days ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? That’s great, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, it’s nowhere near done, but it’s better than it was,” Tony says. “And then my mom wanted to make Christmas cookies, so those are really burnt and terrible, but it was fun, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “I can bring some of my mom’s back with me to Boston for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, please do,” Tony groans. “I can’t even begin to describe how bad these are, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a sharp knock on Tony’s bedroom door, followed a second later by the door opening and the sound of Bucky’s voice saying his name. Tony jolts up as Bucky enters the room, and he exchanges a quick, wide-eyed look with Steve before hanging up the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, was that Steve? You should have told him I said hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony freezes, “Uh, what? No, why would it be Steve? It was, um, Bruce.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky raises his eyebrows. “You call Bruce ‘baby’ now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I call everyone baby. It’s a thing I’m trying out. Sort of like a catchphrase, you know? But it’s still in the testing phase, might not keep it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God, really?” Bucky groans. “Can you just confess already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-what? I have no clue what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, really?” Bucky puts his hands on his hips, eyebrow cocked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, none. No idea. I was just talking to Bruce. Minding my own business over here,” Tony says, willing his voice to stay even and controlled, even though it feels like he can’t breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve known about you and Steve for months, idiot,” Bucky says, but not cruelly. Tony feels his heart stop completely as the rug is swept out from under his feet. “October, right? That’s when it started? Or at least that’s when one of you finally did something about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I - how - what,” Tony stammers. He thinks briefly about denying it still, but then he realizes there’s no reason to. They were going to tell him soon enough, anyway. But he doesn’t understand how Bucky knows about it at all or why he isn’t mad. “How do you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky walks over, and Tony moves his legs out of the way so he can sit on the bed. “You two were never all that subtle. I mean, it’s like you honestly thought I didn’t have the ability to smell anymore. My apartment smells a lot more like you than it should’ve if you were only coming by when I was around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but we could have just been friends,” Tony says. “Friends who hung out when you weren’t around sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky laughs, “I would’ve had to be blind, too, then. You think I didn’t see the way you two looked at each other even before it started? I’ve only ever seen Steve with a crush one time, and it wasn’t nearly as bad as when he looks at you. And I’ve known you my whole life, Tones. I know what you look like when you like someone. Even when you think you’re being subtle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it really that obvious? Could Bucky really have seen it before either of them even admitted it? Tony never noticed any sort of way Steve was looking at him, but then again he was too concerned with hiding his own feelings to notice Steve’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you say anything if you knew?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell me when it started?” Bucky counters, and Tony turns red. He looks down at his bedspread, tracing the plaid lines with eyes instead of meeting Bucky’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you would be mad,” Tony admits. “You’re protective, and that’s not a bad thing most of the time, but with this,” Tony hesitates, unsure of how to explain it. It feels so stupid now, though it felt logical at the time. “I didn’t want to put anyone in a bad position. I didn’t want you to be mad at Steve for dating me, and I didn’t want to make Steve have to choose between us, and I just - I saw so many bad possible outcomes that it was easier just to keep it a secret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky nods slowly, then says, “I was a little mad at first. I thought about killing Steve, but then I’d have to get Nat to help me hide the body, and I know she’d do it, but it seemed like a hassle to drag her into it, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony doesn’t quite realize that he’s joking at first, not until Bucky smiles and bumps him with his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But then I got over it,” Bucky says. “And yeah, I’m protective of you, but only when you need it. You don’t need protecting from Steve. If anything, Steve might need protecting from you, because you’re damn menace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, shocked, “You’re such an ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Tony grins. “But you’re still an ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky puts an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a loose hug, and Tony is still confused on what to feel. Everything he was expecting to happen hasn’t come true at all. No yelling, no anger, nothing to suggest that Bucky is even slightly upset with him. He doesn’t quite know how to reconcile this reality with the one he was anticipating for months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve really known since the start?” Tony asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve had my suspicions for a long time, yeah. Steve suddenly needed a whole lot of help with physics, but somehow he still had homework when he got home from studying with you. Didn’t really add up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But wait, what about the girl you tried to set Steve up with that night at the bar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carol is a lesbian, Tony. She’s dating another girl from the soccer team. I invited her to come as a friend, because I knew Steve wouldn’t actually flirt with her anyway.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gapes, “No, what, that’s not - no. You said she and Steve would be good together. You were setting them up. You gave him her number.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was fucking with you,” Bucky says bluntly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God,” Tony groans, covering his face with his hands. He’s reconsidering every single conversation he’s had with Bucky in the last couple of months and every one that Steve told him about. It feels strangely obvious now. “Are you serious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fucked with Steve a couple of times, too. Did he tell you about those?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, “Yeah, he did. The thing about me hiding something from you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His face was hilarious when I said it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have to tell him about my crush on Captain America, though?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Revenge came in many forms,” Bucky grins. “And it was fun at first to fuck with you guys, but it was starting to get a little boring. There’s only so many ways I can make you jealous, and there’s only so many times I can watch Steve try to lie before it gets old.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a really bad liar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly the worst. But let’s not pretend you’re all that good at it either. The sweatshirt thing that night at the bar? That was maybe the lowest point for both of you. He didn’t even come home with the sweatshirt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony takes a few seconds to remember what he’s referring to, then he laughs, “Yeah, that wasn’t anyone’s finest work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve told me he was going to the gym a couple of times, but left his gym bag at home. Can’t decide if that was better or worse than when he said he couldn’t go to a party with me because he had a test in the morning. The party was on a Saturday night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shakes his head and sighs, “We never had a shot in hell of actually keeping this a secret, did we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, no,” Bucky says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry we didn’t just tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m sorry you thought you had to hide it from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything at all. He kneels on the bed and wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders. Relief floods his veins as Bucky hugs him back and it finally sinks in that things are actually okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for being okay with this,” Tony says when they separate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I want you to be happy. Steve, too,” Bucky smiles. Then his face grows serious. “But if you ever pull this kind of shit again, I reserve the right to strangle you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay. That’s fair,” Tony laughs. Tentatively, he asks, “So we’re okay, then? Me and you? You don’t hate me for this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s gonna take a lot more than you getting with Steve to make me hate you,” Bucky says, and Tony smiles in relief. “If I catch you in a Yankees jersey, though, it’s all over. We can’t be brothers anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve gave me his Yankees sweatshirt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky sighs, “This is the true betrayal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sit together for a while longer, as Tony’s heart rate slows back down to normal. It feels easier to breathe now, unencumbered by the weight of secrets and lies. He thinks about how many things could have been avoided if he just had the courage to come clean earlier, but he really can’t bring himself to regret the last few months. Some of his best memories came in the secret moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky ruffles his hair, then stands up from the bed. Just before he reaches the door, he looks over his shoulder and says, “You might want to call your boyfriend back before he has a heart attack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Time for the happy ending :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey, no, gross,” Bucky says, and Steve feels something light hit his arm. “I don’t want to see any of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pulls his mouth away from Tony’s reluctantly, but his arms stay around his waist. Tony giggles as he leans in closer, shifting his weight on Steve’s lap as he does, and plants a wet kiss on Steve’s cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky gives them a disgusted look. “I swear it was better when I was pretending I didn’t know about you two. At least you kept this shit to yourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha walks over and threads her arm through Bucky’s, passing him one of the two bottles of beer she’s holding in one hand. She pulls him over to sit on the other side of the couch as she says, “Let them be. They’re cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Bucky, we’re cute,” Tony says, sticking his tongue out at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve presses his mouth into Tony’s shoulder to hide his laugh. He’s glad they’ve finally reached a point where he and Tony are not only completely comfortable being affectionate in front of Bucky, but they can joke about it, too. For almost a month he was uneasy about it, even though everything was fine between him and Bucky. They had a conversation about his relationship with Tony the day they got back from break, complete with a shovel talk that even Natasha joined in on. But it’s still weird to tell him that he’s going over to Tony’s dorm room and have him be perfectly aware of what Steve is doing with him while he’s there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve’s tongue in your mouth is not cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you really don’t want to know about Steve’s dick in -” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clamps a hand over Tony’s mouth before he can complete the sentence, knowing full well where it was headed. Bucky gets the drift, too, and he sighs, “Are you sure this is the one you want, Steve? It’s really not too late to change your mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony makes an offended squawk and pushes Steve’s hand off of his mouth. He points a finger at Bucky and says, “That is rude. This is exactly why I’m Steve’s favorite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think there’s other reasons for that,” Natasha says wryly, smirking when Bucky makes a gagging sound at the implication. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we please stop talking about my little brother and my best friend having sex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You tortured us for two and a half months, and now we will torture you for the foreseeable future,” Tony grins.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You earned your torture. I am an innocent man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Babe, you’re really approaching this all wrong,” Natasha says. “You don’t get them to stop by complaining, you get them to stop by turning the tables back on them. I bet Tony doesn’t want to hear about that thing you did to me last night with your tongue in my -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Tony shouts, a horrified look on his face, and he covers his ears with his hands. “No, no, no. That’s not allowed. Don’t make me think about that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky laughs, “Oh, God. Yeah, that’s perfect. We’ll both be equally scarred for the rest of our lives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve,” Tony whines, burying his face into Steve’s hair. “Get the image out of my head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You kind of brought it on yourself, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I didn’t. Nat was the one that made the sex joke, and she’s the one that gave me the worst mental picture I’ve ever had.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha grins triumphantly, “It’s great, isn’t it? I get to make you both suffer at once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Evil woman,” Tony mutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve tilts his head up, kissing the underside of Tony’s chin. “Wanna go to my room? I promise no one will be bring up Bucky’s sex life in there. Mostly because I don’t really wanna think about it either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods, and Steve stands up with him still in his arms. They’re halfway down the hall when Bucky calls out, “Leave the door open. I’m too young to be an uncle.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs with his head on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve uses his foot to push the bedroom door open. Leaving the door partially open, he sets Tony down on the bed, but never loosens his hold on him. They end up on their sides, with Tony burrowed into his chest and their arms around each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a rare night with neither one of them having anything going on. Baseball practice recently started up in full swing, and Tony decided to join the robotics club, limiting the amount of time they have for each other. Steve is grateful for this time to just be together with no other plans and nothing else occupying their minds. Tomorrow he’ll have early morning practice, two classes back to back, an exam, and then a shift at the art store to cap it all off, but today he can just hold his favorite person in his arms and not worry about the rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you thinking about?” Tony asks in a murmur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Steve replies, equally quiet. “I just like being with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony presses in a little closer, hitching his leg higher around Steve’s thigh. “I like it, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve drags the tips of his fingers down Tony’s back, following the bumps of his spine. He breathes in deep to revel in the way his room smells like the perfect mix of the two of them. His pillows always smell like Tony these days, with how often he comes around, and even on the nights he isn’t there, Steve sleeps easily with Tony’s scent filling his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a long while they don’t talk, because they don’t need to. They’re long past the point of needing to fill the silences with idle conversation, past the point of silence feeling awkward. They’re more than content to be in the quiet together until something needs to be said, and eventually it does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mom called this morning, by the way,” Tony says, and Steve hums in acknowledgement to prompt him to continue. “She said that you’re welcome to stay with us over spring break if you want to. I think Natasha’s planning on coming home with us, too. She usually does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this your way of telling me you want me to come without actually saying it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to come if you want to come, but if you want to go back to New York I’ll understand,” Tony says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I usually stay here for break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll understand less if you decide to do that, but I will begrudgingly accept it and only make you feel a little bit guilty for abandoning me for an entire week.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs, “I’m trying to say that I have no other plans and I’d like to go home with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve tilts his head down and kisses Tony’s temple. “Yeah, I’d love to meet your parents. Well, I’m actually terrified of meeting them, but I like that we’re taking the step, anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s really not my parents you have to worry about,” Tony says, and it sounds ominous to Steve. “My mom is going to love you right away, and my dad is going to seem standoffish at first, but he’ll warm up to you when he knows for sure that you’re a good person. But I’m giving you three weeks of notice that Pepper’s going to interrogate you so badly that it would break a lesser man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve frowns, “Interrogate me about what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything you’ve ever done in your life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I be scared?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hums, “And what if I mention the fact that I know that she was your first kiss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pulls away from Steve’s chest with wide eyes, gasping, “How do you know that? I swore on my life that I would never tell anyone that, so I know it wasn’t from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky mentioned it when he told me about your Captain America crush,” Steve smiles, running his thumb over Tony’s bottom lip where his mouth is still agape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighs, “I’m killing him for this one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that big of a deal, is it? There are a lot worse people out there to have a first kiss with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shoves on Steve’s shoulder until he rolls onto his back, then puts his head on Steve’s chest and throws his leg over him. As he’s getting comfortably situated he says, “Not really, but it is kind of embarrassing. We only did it because we wanted to get it over with. But if you value my life and yours, don’t mention it to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I would hate to get us both murdered before we can even celebrate six months together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, “That would be a shame, considering that I’ve already got some really fun plans for you that night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? What are those?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, baby, that’s a surprise. But if you’d like a hint, think about what we were talking about during that game we played when we were studying for finals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve takes a moment to think about it, and his eyes widen when he gets it. “Are you - the thing with the - really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grins at Steve’s stammering. “Yes, really. I’m even feeling generous enough to let you pick the color for the outfit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve groans at just the thought and without a second of hesitation he says, “Red. Please red.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, good. That’s what I was thinking, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shifts, sliding lower on the bed to get his mouth on Tony’s. His hands drift down to palm his ass through his jeans, and Tony moans into their kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s still a month away,” Tony says breathlessly. “It’s a little early to be this excited.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, Steve thinks, that’s probably true. But it’s more than just the thought of Tony stripping in lingerie for him that has him excited. It’s the fact that he planned something for their anniversary already. That he knows just as well as Steve does that one month from now they’ll still be happy together. And it’s the future after that, too. It’s the thought that they’ll have so many more nights just like this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve knows it can’t always stay this simple. They’ll bicker and fight sometimes, and there might be days when it feels like everything is crumbling, but he also knows that he always wants to come back to this. To the sense of peace he finds in these quiet moments together. To the feeling of Tony’s hands, to his body all around him. To the home they have made in each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Steve can’t wait for what comes next. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so, so much to every single person that has read this and left comments/kudos along the way, as well as to every person that subscribed! I really loved getting all that feedback and hearing everyone's thoughts :)</p><p>If you want, feel free to hit me up on <a href="https://ifmywishescametrue.tumblr.com">my tumblr</a></p>
        </blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29518305">Of best friends and their hot roommates</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonyswar/pseuds/Tonyswar">Tonyswar</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
</div></div></div>
</body>
</html>